The Final Sacrifice
by FuzzyBlueElf-2
Summary: My newest story. My longest story. My best story! It's really good, please read (even though its long) and review. Im sorry its so effin long, the chapter editing got messed up!


Disclaimer - Nothing owned.  
  
The Final Sacrifice  
  
And so it begins...  
  
***  
  
***  
  
Balamb Garden, his Garden, his home for most of his life, was a burnt-out shell. He ran down the scorched corridors, through broken glass and shattered doors, shouting. No one answered his calls. The devastation was incredible. Even Trabia Garden hadn't been damaged this badly by the Galbadian missiles. Not a room was intact.  
  
The lift was gone. He pried open the doors to the shaft and climbed the steel ladder. Every clang of his boots on the rungs echoed through the long, vertical tunnel, making the silent blackness all the darker. When he reached the third floor, he wrestled one door back and clambered into the office hallway. The carpet was charred gray, huge slashes gouging the metal beneath. The air stank of sulfur, wisps of poisonous dark smoke floating low against the floor.  
  
He crossed the hall in several long strides. A fallen iron beam blocked the entrance to the office and bridge. He vaulted it, then froze for an instant, spotting the body trapped beneath. Long golden hair draped over her stained red vest. Quistis Trepe, once his instructor, then his second. Her blue eyes stared up at the fractured ceiling.  
  
Kneeling, he slipped off one glove and touched her throat. There was no pulse. Her skin was cool. One hand still clutched her whip, raised to her chest as if she had hoped it would protect her from the falling girder.  
  
He closed her eyes and murmured a benediction. As he stood, the faintest sound caught his attention, a mew no louder than a newborn kitten's. Making his way around the wreckage of the collapsed bridge, he heard it again, a tiny, labored moan.  
  
Half-buried in the rubble he found another corpse. The man's face was burned, contorted with the agony of his death, but the tattoo still recognizable. "...Zell," he whispered in shock, shaking his head. This couldn't be. Not all of them...this couldn't be.  
  
Then he realized Zell had died with arms outstretched and fists clenched, as if in combat. A defense. Crouching, he began to dig through the wreckage, shoving aside planks and broken struts until he found her.  
  
Her blue coat was black with blood, seeping from her wounded chest, but when he lifted her body in his arms, her eyes fluttered open. Their once-bright brown was clouded, but alive. She tried to speak. "...came..."  
  
"I came, I'm here," he told her. "Lie still, don't move."  
  
"...others..." Against his command she tried to raise herself, failed. "Where..."  
  
"You're going to be fine. You have to rest, I'll--I'll help you." He thought to say he would find help, then realized there was none to find, not in time to save her. "You'll be all right," he chanted, a mantra, a prayer. "I'll help. You're going to be fine."  
  
Her fingers closed weakly over his wrist. "Zell... Qui...Quistis..."  
  
"Dead," he said, and heard his voice thicken. "They're...I found Selphie and Irvine outside, and Quistis and Zell--I've found no one alive." Only her. She weighed nothing in his arms; he didn't know if that was because she was so light, or because his arms were numb.  
  
"...alone..."  
  
"No," he whispered, gathering her closer. She was cold as snow, but she didn't shiver. "I'm here. We're not alone. Never."  
  
"Will be..." She would have coughed, had she the strength. He felt her breath catch, her chest barely moving. "...can't..."  
  
"You have to. Please, Rinoa. Please. Don't..." He lost the last of his voice to the tears sliding down his cheeks. "Please," his mouth shaped the word.  
  
"Good...bye..." She sighed once and sagged against him, her eyes closing.  
  
He cried her name, but her eyes never opened.  
  
***  
  
The Promise of Nightmares  
  
A Final Fantasy VIII Story  
  
by XmagicalX  
  
***  
  
Chapter I: The Opening  
  
***  
  
Jezikan Deling selected all of her wardrobe with much care and deliberation. If one was the President's wife, one must take one's appearance seriously. The people were attentive to wealth and its trappings; her dress should reflect the power of her position, without seeming either too flamboyant or too severe. Youth and beauty must be balanced with responsibility and good taste. She dressed carefully from the day of her marriage to Ferdid Deling, no matter that he was only a minister at the time. Blood is blood, and as Vinzer Deling's nephew there was little doubt Ferdid would someday take the highest office of Galbadia.  
  
She hadn't expected the inauguration to come so soon after his winning the Vice Presidency, but after Vinzer's demise at the Sorceress Edea's hands, the government had little choice but to put Ferdid in command. It was that or lose control entirely, and the ministers would no sooner let power slip from their fingers than Jezikan would herself. She liked the ministers, sly old back-stabbing foxes that they were. She understood how their minds worked.  
  
It was important she make a good impression on them as well as on the rest of the citizens. The council meeting, two days away, wasn't too distant to begin planning. She racked her closets, removed a scarlet dress and draped it over her figure contemplatively.  
  
"Too bright," said Dahl from where he lay across her bed. "You'd look like a dawn-bird out hunting worms."  
  
"Perhaps this, then," she suggested, holding up a black gown with a long, silvery train.  
  
"Only if you wish to remind them of the Sorceress," he said. Sliding off the bed, he slunk to the closet, passing close enough to brush her thigh. "I imagine you want a more favorable look." He shuffled through the array and selected one to his tastes. "This one, maybe?"  
  
She swatted him lightly. "Only for you, and only alone. Even Ferdid hasn't seen me in that. Certainly not before the entire council."  
  
"Why not?" He smiled, wolflike. "Seducing them en masse would be simpler."  
  
"Not so obviously," she reprimanded. "I'll have my way with them, but only in time."  
  
"And if they don't sway to you in time?"  
  
She slipped a slender hand under the gold silk of his tunic. He too understood the importance of dressing his part, the bright colors of a palace dandy camouflaging the danger in his black eyes. "If they do not," she purred, "that's where your talents come in, my love."  
  
A sharp retort on the door interrupted his response. "Lady Jezikan?" called the guard outside. "You wished to be informed. The minister is in communication with the Garden now."  
  
"Excellent. Thank you," she called, then looked back to Dahl as he wound his arms around her voluptuous curves. "It begins. Are we ready, do you think?"  
  
"If we aren't," he murmured in her ear, "it will still go well for us. If we are," and his eyes shone, "it will be glorious. I will see you on the throne of the world, my queen."  
  
And you will be my king, she answered, though not in words.  
  
***  
  
The double doors to the office were slammed so hard they bounced open three times before closing. With that audio cue, Squall didn't even bother looking up from his reports to identify the comer. Nor did Zell bother waiting for a greeting before announcing his business.  
  
"You gotta talk to Irvine, Squall!" the SeeD cried, flinging himself into pacing the office, hands jammed in his back pockets. "He's driving me crazy--I'm gonna punch him out one of these days. WHAM, he'll be on the floor out cold and you'll have to discipline me. Only it won't be my fault, it'll be Irvine's, 'cause he pushed me too far. I warned you. I'm telling you now so you won't surprised when it happens. Are you listening to me?"  
  
He planted his fists on the desk. Squall didn't lift his head from the pages, pausing to take note of important details on his computer. "Are you listening?" Zell asked again.  
  
"Yes, Zell." Squall shifted one report to the bottom of the pile and started on the next.  
  
"Good. Because I'm serious. I mean, he didn't even tell me about it! He set me up with Sashi, you know, the girl from the library. Got us reservations for the end of the week at the best restaurant in Balamb, and he didn't even ask if I was free."  
  
"Are you?"  
  
"Yes, but that's not the point! He asked her before he made the reservations! He made sure it was okay with her, that she knew all about it, and then he finally remembered he me. So we're in the training hall, taking on a pair of Grats, and right as he's reloading Irvine looks over and says, 'Oh yeah, get your dress blacks pressed, you want to look your best for your date.' I didn't believe it! I still can't believe he did that to me!"  
  
"...I thought you liked the girl from the library."  
  
"I do, I think, but..." Zell covered another lap around the office, driving his fist into the palm of his other hand. "I want to take it at my own pace, you know? See how it develops. Sure she's cute, but I'm not even sure I really like her, and here's Irvine, the master matchmaker. Just because things worked out so great with you and Rinoa--"  
  
Squall looked up from his papers with an expression that on anyone else would have been called 'mild.' Zell backpedaled rapidly, "I mean, uh, I know you aren't, well, sure you are, we don't need to--"  
  
He entirely missed the small smile playing across his friend's lips, and would have kept pushing his foot deeper into his mouth if he hadn't been saved by the bell. The intercom on Squall's desk chimed, and Xu's voice sounded from the bridge above. "Commander, we're receiving a communication request from Deling City, Galbadia, direct from the President's office. Shall I put them through?"  
  
Squall reached for the com. "Yes."  
  
Zell sat down out of view of the camera as a stranger's balding head came onscreen. "Greeting," the man said. "I'm Minister Kittering, Foreign Affairs. You're Squall Leonhart, correct? Leader of the SeeD mercenaries and Balamb Garden?"  
  
"I'm the SeeD commander. Cid is the head of the Gardens."  
  
"Good, good. You're the man I want. My government wishes to contract your SeeD." The minister's mouth was barely wide enough to hold his smile. It seemed to stretch beyond the borders of his lips. "All of them, or as many as you can offer. We're willing to pay whatever price."  
  
"What's the mission?"  
  
"President Deling can explain. In two days we're having a council meeting; it would be ideal if you could attend."  
  
"We will. Expect us." Squall cut the connection, then contacted the bridge and ordered Nida to set a course for Deling City.  
  
Zell bounced out of his seat the moment the minister was off the air. As soon as Squall had announced their destination over the general intercom, he starting talking. "Galbadia wants us? Last time we were in Galbadia, they threw all of us in prison. Think they'd try that again?"  
  
"I doubt it. They were being ruled by the Sorceress then."  
  
"Yeah, but they're still jerks. They let the Sorceress take over because they wanted to rule the world. Maybe they just want another Sorceress to try again--"  
  
Squall's stare was not so mild this time. Zell swallowed, retreating a step. "I mean, uh...that's probably not it at all. The President wants to hire us SeeDs, right?" He thumped his chest. "They need soldiers and they know their troops aren't good enough. So why not ask for the best? That's it. President Deling--" He paused. "Hey, I thought President Deling was killed by the Sorceress."  
  
"Vinzer Deling was," Squall said. "I think this is his nephew. I don't remember his name."  
  
"Big surprise," Zell muttered. "Look, it's nearly lunchtime, I better get down to the cafeteria before the hot dogs are gone. Catch ya later," and he scooted out the door.  
  
He poked his head back in again a second later. "Oh, hey, Squall, keep forgetting to ask. I can use my T-board in the Garden, right? I'm not going to be ramming people or nothing. Please?"  
  
The burden of command. Squall dropped his head into his hand. "All right," he said. "But only in the halls. Not in the dorms or the cafeteria."  
  
"Great!" Zell took off in hot pursuit of his primary sustenance.  
  
Zell wouldn't be the only one with questions about this most recent mission. Better take care of other things while he had the chance. Pushing the reports aside, Squall reached for the communication panel to put through a connection to Cid Kramer. The headmaster needed to know current Garden and SeeD assignments; he might also have some idea what Galbadia might be requesting from them. It never hurt to be prepared.  
  
Of course, there were many things there was no possible way to be prepared for. Squall had learned that in depth last year; becoming SeeD commander was only the beginning of that list. If any luck was on their side, this job wouldn't be added to it.  
  
***  
  
"Quistis! Quisty! Did you hear what Squall just said?"  
  
Quistis barely stepped out of the way before Selphie Tilmitt burst through the door. The small SeeD was in her standard yellow frock, her short hair tied back and holding her nunchakus. She came from a training exercise on the Quad to search out Quistis, who was enforcing Dr. Kodowaki's lectures to a few recalcitrant students. "Training duels are not to be taken as opportunities to win battle scars," the doctor was saying, "our commander's example aside. Yes?" She glanced over at Selphie, bubbling in the doorway.  
  
"Excuse me," Quistis murmured, sweeping a sharp, ice-blue gaze over the students. "Listen to Dr. Kodowaki, now."  
  
"Yes, Instructor!" the students chorused obediently.  
  
All eyes were on her as she stepped out. Once in the hall, Selphie commented, "Looks like the Treppies are still around."  
  
"More than ever," Quistis sighed. "Did you hear about the party they threw when I made Instructor again?"  
  
"I think everyone did. Did you hear Squall on the intercom?" Selphie twirled her nunchakus. "We're going to Galbadia! Do you think we'll attack Deling City?"  
  
"I think Squall would've mentioned that."  
  
"Maybe he's keeping it a surprise! We come in, fire a missile and BOOM, before they know what hit them!"  
  
Selphie beamed. Quistis eyed her doubtfully as they took the lift to the third floor office, formerly Cid's, now the SeeD commander's. Squall rose from his desk as they entered, his expression faintly troubled.  
  
"Squall, that announcement. Was it serious? We're going to Galbadia?"  
  
Squall nodded.  
  
"To blow them up?" Selphie asked hopefully.  
  
Squall shook his head and tersely explained. Quistis and Selphie soon took up his concern. "I don't know about this," Quistis said slowly. "They don't exactly like us. We were trying to stop them in Dollet and in Timber. Last time we were in Galbadia, they had us in prison for trying to kidnap the president and assassinate their ambassador."  
  
"We were *ordered* to do that!" Selphie protested. "And their ambassador was the Sorceress, after all."  
  
"Yes, still...then we escaped and destroyed their missile base."  
  
"Well, that," Selphie admitted. "But they tried to blow us up first!"  
  
"Then we fought Galbadia Garden and nearly destroyed it," Quistis continued. "Then we worked with Esthar, and Esthar has been Galbadia's enemy for practically forever. And along the way we fought a lot of their soldiers and demolished some of their best war machines. Now all's forgiven, and they want to hire us?"  
  
"I know," Squall said. "But it sounded like an honest request. I spoke with Cid, and he doesn't think it's a trap. He thinks it's important that we go. With Trabia Garden still being repaired, and Galbadia Garden at Fisherman's Horizon, we're the only active SeeD contingent."  
  
"We have to show we're ready for anything," Selphie agreed. "Even Galbadia!"  
  
"Why is Galbadia Garden at Fisherman's Horizon?" Quistis inquired.  
  
Squall shrugged. "Undergoing renovations."  
  
"You don't know for what?" Quistis crossed her arms. "Squall, aren't you SeeD commander? Doesn't that include the SeeD still in Galbadia Garden?"  
  
Squall shrugged again. In truth he wasn't sure how far his authority reached. Until last year, there had been no SeeD commander. Cid, as founder and head of the oldest Garden, had had supremacy, but the other Garden headmasters had generally acted independently as they saw fit. Martine had renounced his position in Galbadia Garden, however, and the Trabia Garden headmaster had died when the Garden was bombed. They had temporary leaders now, not a problem since neither Garden was fully functional. When they were back to full strength, who would head them? Cid still had influence, but he had made Squall commander. Commander of all SeeD, or only Balamb Garden?  
  
He didn't want to think about it. Irvine was a SeeD from Galbadia Garden, but Irvine lived at Balamb Garden now, along with many other SeeD from Galbadia and Trabia Gardens. A SeeD was supposed to follow the orders of whatever leader they were under, and as Squall was the commander of Balamb Garden, they listened to him. But Squall noticed Irvine saluted him, while the sharpshooter had never saluted Headmaster Martine. He wasn't quite sure what to make of that. Maybe it didn't mean anything.  
  
Cid had told him Galbadia Garden was being overhauled by the artisans at Fisherman's Horizon. Did Squall have any responsibility beyond knowing that? "The renovation was Cid's order," he told Quistis. "Should I question it?"  
  
"Not if you don't think you should," she said. "You can trust Cid. But maybe you could take some interest in what's going on around you. At least make it look like you care."  
  
"I do care. But there's a lot I have to be interested in. I need to concentrate on Galbadia now, figure out why they want us."  
  
"Why bother? They'll tell us when we get there." Quistis whirled and strode out. Selphie hurried after her, nearly running down Irvine Kinneas, who was just emerging from the lift.  
  
The sharpshooter steadied her, then tipped his hat to Quistis. "Hello, ladies. Also visiting our stalwart commander?"  
  
"We're through," Quistis said. "I wouldn't bother. He's not in the most communicative mood."  
  
"He's thinking," Selphie supplied.  
  
Irvine grinned. "Sounds like our Squall. So we're definitely going to Galbadia?"  
  
"Unless you have a good reason not to. Even if you do, he probably doesn't want to hear it." Quistis stepped past them into the lift, the doors closing before they could follow.  
  
Irvine scratched his chin thoughtfully. "Has Quisty been grumpy lately, or is it just me?"  
  
Selphie sighed. "She's like that all the time now. I think she's stressed. She's an instructor again, but there aren't many regular classes right now, what with fixing the Gardens and assigning SeeD to do stuff. And Squall doesn't always listen to her, or he doesn't always seem like he's listening to her, anyway, so she gets mad at him."  
  
Not the best way to get Squall's attention. "She's always been that way," Irvine remarked. "Good old bossy Quistis."  
  
Selphie giggled. "Better not say that when she's got her whip!" Then she sobered, curls bouncing as she shook her head. "She's *not* always like that, though. She used to laugh at Squall all the time, whenever he was too serious. Like Rinoa does. But Quistis doesn't at all now, and it's not because he's commander. It's bad."  
  
"Very bad," Irvine agreed wholeheartedly. "Beautiful women are supposed to laugh. Something must be done."  
  
"We've got to do something," Selphie agreed. Then paused. "What do you mean, 'beautiful women'?"  
  
"I mean like you, Sephie," Irvine said in all sincerity.  
  
"Just checking." She stood on her tiptoes to give him a peck on the lips, taking the opportunity to swipe his hat. By the time he realized it was gone, she had already ducked into the lift and was on her way down, twisting the hat's brim as she pondered the problem at hand.  
  
***  
  
Come evening, Galbadian President Ferdid Deling summoned his wife to his bedchambers. She came, dressed demurely, her robe straight and opaque and her head lowered respectfully. When the oaken door closed behind her, Ferdid marched over and jerked her chin up. "Don't play the wilting flower with me, lady wife."  
  
"Never to you, husband." Jezikan shoved away his massive paw and stared up at him haughtily. Compared with Dahl's languid feline poise, Ferdid was a bear, one of the shaggy, black beasts of the frozen north, yellow-eyed and clumsy. Not slow, in either action or wits; she couldn't have borne that. But lazy, unless he was motivated, and his ambitions were not high-reaching enough to suit her. "Why have you called me?"  
  
"Desiring your beauty is not reason enough?" Ferdid's tone was pregnant with irony. She only arched a thin auburn brow, and he clumped back to his desk, gazing at the computer instead of her. "My ministers contacted the SeeD today. They're coming to the council meeting."  
  
Her smooth face gave no sign she had heard this before. "I see. Is that all, husband?"  
  
His back was to her. "I've decided to carry out the raid as you planned. As well as implement certain other measures which we had previously discussed."  
  
"Other matters?" Sapphire eyes widened as she realized his meaning. "Husband, we agreed--"  
  
"There was no agreement. We discussed it. I had made no decision. I have now. The doctor convinced me."  
  
"He's a foolish old man, halfway a lunatic!"  
  
"And half a genius. He believes it may be necessary."  
  
"Dahl has refused--"  
  
"His refusal matters little. We don't need him. I'd rather we didn't need the Sorceress, either, but as we do--"  
  
"According to that addlepated doctor!"  
  
"As we do need her," Ferdid went on as if he hadn't heard, "we must have her, your pet warlock's penchants aside. I am the President, wife. Not you."  
  
In appearance he much resembled a younger version of his uncle Vinzer, his bristly hair blacker but his shoulders just as square. But Vinzer had been a weak-willed coward, eagerly placing the burden of power on the Sorceress's shoulders. There was too little of that weakness in his nephew. Ironic, that what had first drawn her to Ferdid should divide them now. There was no arguing with him, not about this; she knew him that well. "As you say, my lord husband," she replied, essaying a curtsey not entirely sarcastic. "The raid proceeds as we planned?"  
  
"The ships have already sailed," he told her. "They'll arrive within a few days. More than we originally thought to send, at the doctor's suggestion."  
  
"Very well. Is that all, husband?"  
  
Ferdid turned from his desk, amber eyes tracing her figure. "Yes, wife."  
  
Her fingers were on the gold-wrought door handle when he spoke again. His tone was different, softer, a voice suited to a bedchamber far distant from this opulent room. "Jezikan, there was a time I'd have called you for much less, and you'd have come happily."  
  
"Long ago," she reminded him.  
  
"But it was real, when you were happy. Your smile was real. Your laughter."  
  
"Perhaps," she said. "I don't remember if they were."  
  
She lifted the latch and swung the door open. She didn't hear his footsteps on the rug until he was directly behind her, his breath hot on her cheek. "I know your lover," he whispered. "Don't think I'm blind to the warlock's little games."  
  
Under her robe, he could not see her back stiffen. Her low alto remained cool. "Will you slit my throat first, or his?"  
  
"Leave," he hissed. Planting a broad hand against the small of her back, he shoved her into the hall. The guards respectfully kept their eyes fixed on the opposite wall while the door slammed, and said nothing as they escorted her back to her chambers. Idly she wondered who they were loyal to, him or her. It was inconsequential, really. In the end they would all follow the orders of their leader, whoever's voice it was.  
  
***  
  
Alone in the darkness, Squall caught his breath. Heart still pounding madly in his chest, he wiped a film of cool sweat from his forehead. There was no danger. Resisting the urge to dive for the light, he allowed his eyes to adjust to the dark. Every shadow was where it should be. Bed, bureau, desk. His jackets hanging on the wall above. The black case by the chair, where Lionheart resided. He reached out and ran his fingers over the embossed silver lion adorning the cover, almost feeling the blue magic which pulsed through the gunblade. It would light the room if he opened the case. He left it closed. Going to the commode, he splashed water on his face, his shadowed reflection observing him silently from the mirror. The eyes in the image looked haunted. He turned back to the empty room. He had only been SeeD for a year; he had never had single quarters before then. Sometimes it still felt odd, being alone. The total silence at night.  
  
By the time he realized he wasn't heading back to his bed, he was already in the corridor outside his quarters. Should go back. Wouldn't be good for morale, if anyone happened to see their commander pacing the halls late at night.  
  
The round white lamps along the walls glowed like artificial moons. At the end of the corridor the window let in true starlight, steady through the clouds whipping by the traveling Garden. He took four steps toward it, and then he was standing in front of her door. He shouldn't wake her. Returning to Galbadia was in its own way harder for her, with her father and everything from childhood she had left behind in Deling City. Squall understood about fathers. It had been far easier for him when he believed himself an orphan. She hadn't bothered him about their new destination the way everyone else had, but being quiet wasn't like her. She'd do better with sleep.  
  
He knocked on her door, once, not loudly enough to wake her. No answer, of course. He should go back to his room--  
  
The door opened. Rinoa blinked at him. "Squall?"  
  
When necessary, Rinoa could look older than her eighteen years. Here in the pseudo-moonlight, her dark hair ruffled and a navy satin robe thrown over her flannel pajamas, she didn't look ten. Her brown eyes were serious, though. "What's wrong?"  
  
"...Nothing." She was fine, she was safe. He had to sleep; they both did.  
  
"Try again." Taking his arm, she pulled him inside, pushed him onto her bed and sat down next to him. "Tell me what's up."  
  
"It's..." He looked at her helplessly. This was a bad idea. Once Rinoa started with questions, it was easier to slay a tyrannosaur with a toothpick than get her off them. "I didn't mean to wake you up. I'm sorry."  
  
"I was already awake, kind of. You knocked; you were looking for me. Now you don't want to see me?" She mock-pouted.  
  
"No, I..." He put his hand to his head. "I had a dream. Not a good one."  
  
"A nightmare?"  
  
"I guess." It was as dark in her room as in his, but for some reason the memory of the dream, so frightening before, now seemed embarrassingly silly. "I was...falling. Like in space, I just kept going down and down. It was dark but I knew I was dropping, I could see shapes rushing past, feel the wind. There were voices but they kept getting blown away. When I shouted, I couldn't hear it. And I couldn't see the bottom, but I knew there had to be one, and every second I fell I was getting closer to it. Then I woke up."  
  
He half expected her to laugh, but she put a warm arm around him and leaned her head against his shoulder. "Sounds like a normal nightmare to me."  
  
"...Normal?"  
  
"Dreaming you're falling. Everyone has nightmares like that. I do. They're scary." She shivered. "Even when you know you're dreaming, and you'll wake up before you hit the ground, it's still terrifying."  
  
"Everyone has dreams like that?"  
  
Now she did laugh. "Maybe not everyone, but a lot! You didn't know?" She craned her neck to look up at him. "You never talked about dreams with anyone, did you."  
  
Though it wasn't what she meant, he had a sudden memory of Seifer, his rival, his enemy, discussing his romantic dream the day of their SeeD test. A dream that almost destroyed him, not much later. "...No."  
  
He felt Rinoa sigh. "Squall, sometimes I don't know if I should be annoyed by or sorry for you." She laughed, the light, quiet chuckle he never tired of hearing. "I have to laugh. I think that's best."  
  
"I don't mind."  
  
She smiled, nestling her head against his shoulder again. "So what's bothering you?"  
  
"...Bothering me?"  
  
"People have nightmares because they're upset about something, usually. Worried, or whatever. What's wrong? Is it going to Galbadia?"  
  
"Maybe." He thought about all the concerns that had already raised. How many more might come up when they reached Deling City. "I spoke with Cid. He said it was my call, but that he thought it best we went."  
  
"So you're not worried about that?"  
  
"Not really." Are you? He didn't ask it aloud. "It was..." He wasn't sure how to put it into words. "I was talking to Cid. I tried to ask him..."  
  
"Ask him what?" She sounded wide awake, leaning against him.  
  
"What SeeD is about," he said. "I can't...I didn't know, before. When I first became a SeeD, I didn't know, I didn't care why we existed. But then we found out what we were really for."  
  
"Fighting the Sorceress."  
  
He nodded. Battling Ultimecia, a sorceress from who knew how far in the future, an evil raging unchecked across time, striving to end everything. Did even Cid know the true nature of the enemy at first? Edea might have; she had created SeeD and the Gardens, and it was she who took Ultimecia's powers when that Sorceress died. Was that in the past, or the future? Whose past, whose future? Didn't matter; it was over. They had won. Squall had lead his friends and together they had destroyed her.  
  
And yet she hadn't even been born, and wouldn't be for years, maybe centuries. Maybe longer. Squall had seen that future, a glimpse of it, at least, and there had been SeeDs then, fighting the Sorceress in her own time. But what of all the years in between? "There is no Sorceress to fight. There won't be, if Ellone and Dr. Odine are right. Ultimecia was trying to reach as far back in the past as she could; she won't be bothering with the present, or our future. Until she's born..."  
  
"There's still a Sorceress," Rinoa said, and a shudder ran through her.  
  
He tightened his arm around her. "You are not Ultimecia, Rinoa. I won't fight you. Never."  
  
After a moment she relaxed. "So what did Cid tell you SeeD was for, now?"  
  
"He hasn't, really. Except...a while ago, right after we defeated the Sorceress, he told me I was still commander of the SeeD. I asked him if there should be SeeD and Gardens, still, since we'd done what we were created to do. And Cid said of course there should be. 'Our real duty begins now,' he said."  
  
"Your real duty? What?"  
  
"I don't know." Squall rocked forward, resting his elbows on his knees with his hands clasped before him. "He didn't say that. Maybe it's like we thought originally. We're mercenaries. We just do what we're hired to do."  
  
"No," Rinoa said fiercely. "You're more than that. You're heroes. You did a lot of stuff before you ever heard of Ultimecia, you and all the SeeDs. You helped people, all over the world. You saved nations and gave hope. That's important." She put her hands over his, bending forward to look at his face. "If you're ordered to do something you know is wrong, you don't have to do it. Even if they pay you. Just throw the money in their face and walk out."  
  
"I'll hear what President Deling wants, first."  
  
"Okay. Just remember, you have a choice. You always do. You forget that sometimes."  
  
Because it wasn't always true. In the faint starlight from the window he studied her face, the dark hair falling softly over her pale cheeks. Rinoa hadn't had a choice when Ultimecia had possessed her to free Adel, or when Edea had transferred her powers and made her a sorceress. The only Sorceress, now.  
  
Gently brushing her hair back from her face, he leaned forward and kissed her. When they separated, she wrapped both arms around him and put her head against his chest. Voice muffled by his tunic, she asked, "Squall? Do you want to sleep here tonight?"  
  
"Here?" He glanced at her bed. There were lines and lines, and despite Irvine's continual suggestions, most of them had yet to be crossed. They were too young, and too busy, and too often unsure of where anything stood, between them or anyone else.  
  
Rinoa giggled at the break in his usually calm voice. "We both need sleep, and we don't need to be alone. Come on." She pushed him back. "I've slept in your bed. It's the same kind of mattress and sheets as in your quarters."  
  
But whenever Rinoa fell asleep on his bed, usually after a long planning session or conversation, he grabbed an extra pillow and slept on the floor. Now she crawled under the covers and curved up next to him, spoon fashion. It was automatic to put his arms around her. She was very warm and soft, and her hair, tickling his nose, smelled of sweet wildflowers he didn't know the names for.  
  
For a moment they lay still, and Squall allowed the even rhythm of her breathing to soothe him. Strange, that sound could be more calming than silence. Sleep came easier than it usually did, but a thought occurred to him before it overtook him completely. She was still awake. He asked, "Rinoa, do you ever have nightmares?"  
  
She shifted against him, finally whispered, "Sometimes."  
  
There were so many reasons she could have nightmares. So many real dangers, so many moments in her life already that could have so nearly gone terribly wrong. And so much she had to worry about now. "If you do," he said, "you can come to me. I--maybe they won't be as bad."  
  
"I don't think they would be," she murmured. "Thank you, Squall." She snuggled closer. He could feel her smiling as he drifted off.  
  
***  
  
Citizens of Deling City, capital of Galbadia, were not easily impressed. No provincial farmers, they had weathered the ruling of the Sorceress and the murder of their President with the hardened ennui of true city folk, going on with their lives without hardly batting an eye. The Sorceress's parade last year was still talked about in the country, but in Deling City the terrorist bombing of the police station last week was old news. It was said that a Deling man would only notice Bahamut if the King of Dragons breathed fire on the street before him--and then only if the fire were in his lane.  
  
The appearance of a hovercraft as big as a mountain turned more than a few heads, however. Automobiles screeched to a halt as their drivers craned their necks at the spire towering overhead, the tip of what looked for all the world like an enormous piece of jewelry, a giant golden pendant studded with pearls and emeralds. Majestically it floated along the city walls, its size giving the illusion of slow motion, though anyone close felt the wind as it rushed past.  
  
"What, by Odin's eye, is *that*?" exclaimed the busdriver as he pulled his vehicle up to the hotel stop. Ignoring the passengers disembarking to gape, he squinted through the windshield at the sight. It looked vaguely familiar, though he couldn't quite place it. On the ground, and not moving, it would almost look like--  
  
"GARDEN," a sharp rasp cut through his thoughts. He turned to the two who had just climbed aboard, nodding politely while he tried to remember if he'd ever heard the woman speak. They had ridden his bus before, and though they usually sat in the back the pair was hard to forget. The woman, with her eyepatch and silver hair, he had suspected of being mute. Small wonder she didn't talk much, if her voice always sounded like that.  
  
Her burly, swarthy companion, on the other hand, was rarely silent. "Balamb?" The woman nodded, and he copied the gesture. "Didn't think it was Galbadia, ya know?"  
  
"Balamb Garden, you say?" the busdriver asked. Now he remembered hearing that the SeeD Gardens were mobile, though not that they were airborne.  
  
"Looks like," the man said. "They must have business here. Probably the council meeting, ya know?"  
  
The woman's single eye was on the Garden. "REPORT," she said.  
  
The busdriver blinked at the non sequitur. The man nodded again. "Yeah, we should be getting back to the palace. Got business, ya know?" He gestured to the busdriver, then took a seat, remarking to his companion, "Though Seifer must know about it already. It's kind of hard to miss, ya know?"  
  
"You'd have to be blind not to see it," commented the busdriver, his hands idle on the wheel. "Wonder what they're doing here. You two have any idea? Not that I've got nothing against the SeeD, but I know folk who'd shoot a mercenary soon as say hello, and with the revolutionaries stirring up trouble--"  
  
"DRIVE," the woman ordered.  
  
He drove.  
  
***  
  
to be continued...  
  
------------------------------  
  
***  
  
The Promise of Nightmares  
  
A Final Fantasy VIII story by XmagicalX  
  
Chapter II: Capture  
  
***  
  
Balamb Garden set down outside the gates of the Presidential Palace, adjacent to Deling's Council Hall. An honor guard of Galbadian soldiers greeted Squall and his SeeD party as they disembarked, and escorted them inside to the hall's lobby. Among the forest of polished marble columns they met Foreign Minister Kittering, in the flesh even shorter and slighter, though his wide, fixed smile was undiminished. "You and your men--uh, people," he hastily altered, noting Quistis and Selphie, "are most welcome, Commander. If you'd like to see the chambers we've prepared--"  
  
"We'll stay in the Garden," Squall told him. "The council meeting is tomorrow?"  
  
"It begins at noon. We'll send a messenger to bring you," the minister said. "Until then, you can visit the city--we can use the tourism." He broadened his smile.  
  
Squall didn't return it. "I'll tell them."  
  
Behind him he heard Selphie whisper to Zell, "You and Sashi can go to a restaurant here!"  
  
He missed Zell's reply as the minister added, "I don't want to seem impolite, but warn your people to be cautious. A few malcontents might attempt to spoil our citizens' good reputations. You'll of course have a guard, and our officers of the law are quite competent, but I wouldn't want you to receive the wrong impression from a couple--"  
  
"I understand," Squall said. "Thank you, but we can take care of ourselves. Is that all?"  
  
"Yes, I suppose--" The minister blinked as Squall offered a curt good-bye and departed, the other SeeD following suit.  
  
By the time they exited the council hall Selphie was on her communicator, discussing a change in plans with Irvine over Zell's increasingly vocal protests. The sharpshooter and Rinoa joined them at the Garden entrance, neither half so interested in Squall's announcement as they were in convincing Zell not to forgo his date. "I know a wonderful little restaurant," Rinoa said. "The best food in the city--"  
  
"Great!" Zell latched onto his one escape. "You can show us!"  
  
"But, Zell--"  
  
"I'm sure Sashi won't mind having you along," Zell said hurriedly. "How about you all come? Quistis? Squall? We can meet here tonight at 18.00 and all go out together." Once he had confirmation he sauntered off, whistling.  
  
Irvine stared after him. Rinoa shook her head. "Sometimes we don't give him enough credit."  
  
Quistis sighed. "Well, if it's not going to be a real date, I guess I can come. Better see what I have to wear."  
  
Selphie watched her go, her forehead wrinkled. When the others went on ahead, the small SeeD pulled Irvine aside. "I think I know what's up with Quistis," she whispered, "and I know what to do about it."  
  
***  
  
"What do you mean, not a good idea?" Fists on her hips, Rinoa eyed the guard. "I'm a Galbadian citizen, and my friends are visitors invited by the President himself."  
  
"I didn't say you couldn't go," the guard said nervously. "But there's plenty of other restaurants, with friendlier patrons--more your style people--"  
  
"We prefer here, thank you." Holding her head high, Rinoa looped her arm through Squall's and strode past the guard, pulling her escort along beside her. The other five followed suit, Selphie sticking her tongue out as she passed.  
  
The alley, lacking the streetlamps on the main streets, was dark and forbidding, the doors in the towering brick walls tightly shut and the windows shuttered. A cat's green eyes watched them suspiciously from under a trash receptacle. Next to Sashi, Zell cracked his knuckles. "You sure you know this place, Rinoa?"  
  
"Sure I'm sure." Passing the cat's dumpster, she picked a blank brown door and rapped sharply twice. A hidden panel slid aside, closed again, and then the door was flung open.  
  
"Rinoa Heartilly!" An enormous, ruddy-haired man, almost too large to fit in the doorway, beamed down at her. "By the Brothers' beards, you haven't come by in ages! The stories we've heard, wasn't sure we'd see you again, if one quarter of 'em were true."  
  
"They probably are, Lank," Rinoa admitted. "But since we were in Deling, I wanted to come here. These are my friends. They're SeeD--I hope that's not a problem?"  
  
"SeeD, eh?" Lank looked them over critically, then gave a deep chuckle. "Aye, there'll be no trouble, even if they weren't your friends. Be enough here that might be interested in their services."  
  
"Not tonight," Rinoa said firmly. "They're--We're off-duty."  
  
"Understand that right enough," Lank winked. "I'll put you where fewer will see you, then. So, you came in that Garden that caused such a rattle this afternoon?" Rumbling on, he escorted them through the door. Inside, the tavern seemed larger than the building without, the warmly lit, white walls giving an impression of space, with tasteful frescos and tapestries of mythological scenes to add color. The thick walls must have had sound-proofing as well; once inside, they were inundated with the hubbub of the crowd. Not a chair was empty, and many more stood around the bar, with the coloring and costumes of a wide variety of peoples from across the continents. Even a couple of Shumi merchants haggled at a corner table.  
  
Lank must have seen their surprise. With a hint of a smirk, he said, "Welcome to the Minotaur's Horn. If you'll sit here, I'll have the Missus throw on the house special for all of you. Don't have any special distaste for frankfurters, do you?"  
  
"No, sir!" Zell assured him.  
  
True to his word, the proprietor placed them at a long table against the far wall, giving the SeeD an excellent view of the entire restaurant while the low light drew no attention to them. With a little maneuvering, Zell was seated beside Sashi, with Irvine on one side of them and Rinoa on the other. If Lank noticed their not-so-subtle guidance, he made no comment. But he did glance curiously at Squall once, small hazel eyes searching the SeeD's face and coming to rest on the scabbard at his side. He said nothing of it, however; most of the patrons had weapons barely concealed.  
  
Once he left, Irvine planted his elbows on the table top and spoke over the room's babble. "Rinoa, how'd you find here? Doesn't look like a place your dad would frequent."  
  
"That's how I found it." Rinoa admitted. "Trying to get away from home. I worked here for a waitress for a couple months, before my father found out and made me quit. But I'd made friends, and he couldn't keep me from visiting. I always found interesting people here. Actually, this is where I met the Forest Owls."  
  
Squall looked up from his water glass. "Those Timber revolutionaries?"  
  
Rinoa nodded. "Watt and Zone were recruiting for their cause. They wanted a general or a prince..."  
  
"You told them you were a princess?" Selphie asked, recalling the title the two revolutionaries had always granted her.  
  
Rinoa blushed. "I never told them *that*--I said I was the daughter of an important man. They decided he was a king."  
  
"King of where?" Squall cocked his head inquiringly. "There are no countries with kings."  
  
Rinoa shrugged. Irvine tapped Zell on the shoulder. "Hey, you're being awfully quiet." Lowering his voice, he whispered, "Just be yourself, that's the best way to go." Then, louder, he remarked, "So, Quistis, Sashi, you've been working on that new cross-Garden index, haven't you? Found any cool books of magic?"  
  
"Hey, uh, yeah," Zell said, clearing his throat. "Like that--"  
  
He broke off so abruptly everyone looked to him, then followed his fixed stare to the bar. They all jerked. "What are *they* doing here?" Quistis muttered, one hand going to the whip on her belt.  
  
Even given the wide range of patrons, the pair that had just entered should have drawn more attention than they did. The man, as tall and wide as Lank but with darker hair and complexion, towered over the whip-thin, silver-haired woman. Their backs were to the SeeDs' table, but they didn't need to see her eyepatch to recognize their former comrades.  
  
"Fujin and Raijin," Zell growled. "Think they're still tagging along with Seifer?"  
  
"Easy, Zell," Quistis murmured. "I don't see Seifer, and they aren't causing trouble."  
  
"They seem to be known," Squall observed, noting Raijin gesturing to the barkeep in a friendly manner.  
  
"Mercenaries do hang out here," Rinoa began.  
  
She was interrupted, not by any noise, but rather a sudden hush descending over the crowd as five Galbadian soldiers marched through one of the side doors. Everybody made such an effort not to meet the men's eyes that it would have been less obvious simply to stare. Ignoring the quiet, four of the guards strode to side table, grabbed the collars of the two seated there, and yanked them to their feet. The fifth, a red-armored lieutenant, announced loudly, "Malkon Amethyst, you and your comrade are under arrest!"  
  
The quiet deepened to an instant of utter silence. "What for?" one of the men yelped, struggling fruitlessly. "Man, I've got rights!" he screeched as the guards shoved him and his associate toward the door. "We're citizens! What's the charge?"  
  
The soldiers said nothing, until Raijin tapped the officer's arm. "Hey, lieutenant, what's up? We're just here for a quiet drink, ya know?"  
  
The lieutenant wheeled, then saw who had addressed him and immediately straightened. "Official government business, Master Raijin."  
  
"*Master* Raijin?" Zell hissed.  
  
"You and Ms Fujin can enjoy yourselves. We'll be gone in a moment," the officer was saying. "As long as these traitors come quietly--"  
  
"TRAITORS?" Fujin rasped.  
  
The lieutenant jumped backward, then flailed for composure. "Yes, Mistress Fujin, we've got it on good authority that Malkon's a ringleader behind the police station bombing. Come along, now." He gestured hastily to his men.  
  
"Well, if it's government business, it's none of ours, ya know," Raijin said sagely.  
  
"But it is ours."  
  
The soldiers with their prisoners spun around. The crowd parted to reveal six black-garbed figures who had appeared in the back, each wielding a stunner. "Release them," the leader ordered.  
  
"Get out of here," snarled the lieutenant.  
  
Tension was building in the air. Across the restaurant, weapons were suddenly not so concealed. "We've got to *do* something!" muttered Zell.  
  
"Do what?" Squall asked. "Who do we help?"  
  
Two of the soldiers had their guns trained on the newcomers. "Hey," Raijin said, stepping before them with his hands raised. "Keep it peaceful, ya know?"  
  
"BUSINESS," Fujin said, and promptly kicked him in the back of the knee. Raijin went down--and one of the black-clothed figures fired over his head, stunning a guard.  
  
It was all that was needed for all hell to break loose. While the first shot was clear, whoever threw the first punch was lost in the tumult which instantly exploded. An attack on the Galbadian soldiers was in no time a full-blown free-for-all, fortunately keeping more to fists than weaponry. Breaking away from the central knot of fighters, Raijin limped back to his comrade, knocking patrons aside left and right. Fujin stood ramrod straight against the bar, juggling her shuriken in her hand as she debated where it could be most effectively applied.  
  
The six SeeD and Rinoa stood by their table and watched. Having no way to tell sides--not that this stopped anyone else--they did nothing, though all reached for their arms when the Galbadian police joined the fray. Bottles started to fly, along with plates and silverware. Squall was considering ordering a discreet retreat when an airborne chair soared toward them. Zell pushed Sashi back, just in time; the chair smashed to splinters against the wall an inch above her brunette head.  
  
"How dare you!" Zell yelled, and vaulting the table he plunged into the thick of the melee. Before Squall could speak, Irvine sprang after him, and Selphie was hot on his heels, her whirling nunchakus cutting a swathe through the combatants.  
  
Quistis shrugged, uncoiled her whip, and inclined her head to Sashi. "Shall we?"  
  
"He--he saved me!" the girl gasped. "Zell!" Pushing up her blouse's long silk sleeves, she hurtled into the fight.  
  
Rinoa stuck by Squall, both of them dodging missiles and fists with ease. "Squall!" she cried as she ducked, "you've gotta--" broke off to block a kick and resumed, "--stop this!"  
  
"How?" Squall demanded, as a table leg whistled past. He could barely make out his friends through the melee, though he caught a glimpse of Zell pushing toward Raijin. That didn't bode well. But what could he do? Bringing magic or a guardian force into the battle would only make things worse. "Stop!" he called experimentally, to no effect.  
  
"SeeD, quit fighting!" he tried again. Rinoa threw him a shrug and a smile, then yelped as a well-aimed pewter stein shattered the lantern over her head. She flung herself back as the glass shards burst out, slamming into a slight man behind her. Both went down.  
  
"Rinoa!" Squall shouted, and pulled his gunblade. "*Stop*!"  
  
Everyone did.  
  
Lionheart's brilliant blue was ghostly in the abrupt pause. Every fighter near Squall and Rinoa took a few involuntary steps backward, leaving an empty circle where the light shimmered on the scuffed floor. The rest were motionless, some frozen mid-strike. All eyes were on the gunblade, and not a few were saluting--all SeeD, Squall noted, doing a quick visual sweep of the crowd, but also a number of others who were not possibly under his command. And every face, patrons, SeeD, and Galbadian soldiers alike, held the same look of awe, trepidation, and, oddly, recognition.  
  
Excepting his friends, whose expressions showed chiefly consternation. And Fujin and Raijin; Fujin was cool as ever, and Raijin's open mouth was more surprised than amazed.  
  
They all were quiet, though. Waiting, he realized, when Rinoa nudged him surreptitiously. Squall cleared his throat. "Thank you." Several people were pointing in his direction and whispering. He didn't know what that meant, let alone what he should do about it. "...Soldiers, if you're done, you can leave."  
  
They had no reason to obey him, but they did, all edging for the doors. Without the men they had arrested, he realized; those two notables had vanished in the confusion. Fujin and Raijin remained by the bar, with Zell a few feet away, trying to look like he wasn't glaring at them.  
  
Before Squall could decide what to do about that, the problem was solved for him. "Fujin, Raijin. There you are."  
  
They and everyone else looked to the golden-haired man at the main entrance. Even from his distance, Squall could see Zell's fists clench, and Quistis adjusted her grip on her whip. The crowd shifted uneasily, though several nodded with respect.  
  
Seifer Almasy paid them no attention. He waited silently, a tall, handsome, young man, as always clothed in the crosses of the knights of old. His bearing and the gunblade in the scabbard at his side also might have belonged to the ancient heroes; the scar across his forehead lent him a maturity belied by the youthful arrogance in his eyes. That blue gaze locked with Squall's, but Seifer's gunblade remained sheathed.  
  
Raijin and Fujin paced over as he raised one hand. "Go about your business," he addressed the tavern; then he looked again to his former rival. "Enjoy your stay in Galbadia, SeeD. Try to keep them under control, Commander Squall." Turning on his heel, he strode out, his long coat flaring behind him. His cohorts followed.  
  
Squall released the breath he hadn't realized he'd been holding, and returned Lionheart to its sheath. A hand lightly touched his arm. Rinoa, gazing curiously after Seifer.  
  
"'Keep us under control'!" Zell stalked back to the table, smoldering. "Why the hell is Seifer in Galbadia, anyway?"  
  
"He needs a leash," Quistis agreed, waving her whip suggestively.  
  
"You know him?" Lank returned to the table with the others. "Reckon you would, at that--they say he's former SeeD."  
  
"Wannabe SeeD, you mean," Selphie sniffed.  
  
"Huh." The proprietor aimed a sideways look at their commander as a waiter set about clearing away the broken plates. "So you are him. Squall. Thought you might be, by the scar and the scabbard, but I didn't want to say anything. Well! You weren't exaggerating about this past year, were you, Rinoa?"  
  
"What do you mean? You know Squall?"  
  
"I know of him. All of you, I expect. There was a bard here a month back, trying to write a song of your battle with the Sorceress. She wasn't the first, either."  
  
"A ballad?"  
  
"About *us*?"  
  
"Cool!"  
  
"Wow!"  
  
"...Whatever."  
  
Rinoa's hands were tightly clasped in her lap. "What Sorceress?"  
  
"What's that?" Lank squinted at her. "The Sorceress you fought, of course. She who would've been Queen of our sorry state. I've heard her called Edea and Adel most often--there's not a single part of the story anyone can agree upon. Except that you did us a great favor in defeating her--and there's those who'd argue even that." He shook his head, sighing. "It's a terrible truth, that our great and noble leaders would rather have accepted her power, forgetting all its evil. Maybe you can remind them of it--they won't listen to us."  
  
"Is that what the arrest attempt was about?" asked Rinoa.  
  
"Aye, and they aren't the first." Lank's broad face was rigid as a statue's. "We're a people in turmoil, and it's only darkened since the Sorceress fell." Just as quickly he shook off the mood, his customary grin returning. "But I reckon off-duty soldiers have no need to talk of grim affairs. The Missus keeps the kitchens running come hell or high water; that little scuffle won't have slowed her cooks the least--you'll have your meal soon enough."  
  
Sashi, tenderly prodding the bruise forming over Zell's cheekbone, raised an eyebrow. "'Little scuffle'?"  
  
***  
  
They didn't get anything more out of Lank, neither about the arrest attempt nor their old mates' presence in Deling City. But when Squall, Zell, and Quistis entered the Galbadian council hall the next day, Seifer was there, seated at the right hand of the Minister of War.  
  
It was too late to send Zell back. Squall hoped his friend could control himself. Quistis would cause no trouble; Zell wouldn't intentionally, but his temper often got the best of him, especially around Seifer. Squall had asked them both to stay quiet unless he called for them to speak, but under pressure Zell might forget that. He was a great fighter and a great friend, but not the most level-headed of individuals. If only there had been some way to justify bringing Rinoa; she might not be SeeD, technically, and she could be as volatile as Zell, but he could use her insight. And it rooted him somehow, made him feel more a part of wherever he was, when he was with her.  
  
Alone, he walked onto the dais ringed by the council's table and faced the man in the central chair. "President Deling. I'm Squall Leonhart, SeeD Commander."  
  
The President, a large, black-haired, amber-eyed man, nodded ponderously. "Greetings, Commander. You and your people are welcome to Galbadia. Thank you for responding so swiftly. As for our request." He glanced over his ministers, then past them. In the corner of his eye, Squall saw a pair seated in the first row of the empty audience tiers. A woman in dark green, and a man in a beige suit less formal than the council's conservatively cut jackets and ties. Though this part of the council meeting was not open to the public, Squall was just as glad he and his teammates had come in full SeeD uniform, as Rinoa had suggested. While inexperienced in the art of politics, he understood enough to know appearances mattered.  
  
Ferdid Deling was speaking in stentorian tones that reminded Squall of Vinzer. "You may have heard of the terrorist bombing of the city's main police station last week. This is not the first such incident; nor is the capital the only place hit. Over the past year such vicious, cowardly attacks have become increasingly prevalent throughout our nation and our holding provinces. Our citizens live in greater fear every day. Trade is difficult when merchants fear attack and our ports and stations are damaged. We are a strong people, but even the most powerful tree cannot grow when insects eat away at the trunk from within the bark.  
  
"We're doing all we can, but our forces were weakened by the Sorceress. In light of this, we prevail on you. SeeD is well-known for accepting difficult tasks; routing out these terrorist revolutionaries isn't a normal duty for mercenaries, but frankly, we have no one else to turn to. We're willing to pay whatever price you ask, and we'll board all your people, wherever they need to be, until the job's done."  
  
Squall stood still for a minute, considering it. "You want to hire us to find the people responsible for the attacks?"  
  
"Yes. Everyone in the circles--there's more than one group. The ministers of War and Internal Matters will tell you more when you're officially contracted."  
  
"Why are these circles attacking?"  
  
He saw a couple of the ministers react angrily, brows lowering and shoulders stiffening. Ferdid's countenance remained placid. "They have different demands. They're confused." His tone changed, from an official speaker's to one more expressive, more personal. "To be blunt, much has been a mess recently. The Sorceress's appointment--which you know something of--threw everyone into hysteria, and her murder of the President stirred up the chaos. I admit that I myself am part of the problem. As our lifelong President, Vinzer Deling should have ruled for another decade at least; there are some who oppose me now because of that. They'll stand in the way of progress because they can't take or don't want to accept the future."  
  
Squall remembered hearing that argument some time ago, before he became SeeD. Then it had supported Galbadia's ceaseless expansionism, a reason for their continued holding of Timber and their attack on Dollet. Those who weren't powerful enough to defend were told to accept their future as a Galbadian holding. Superficially, Timber and the others had to, their forces too weak to throw off that rule. But it didn't stop those peoples from revolting in every small way possible. Including terrorist attacks, if necessary, and resistant groups had scraped together the money to hire SeeD for some attempts. How many of these attacks now were in support of those causes? The council did seem cagey about the actual demands of the revolutionaries.  
  
It wasn't a question he could ask outright, however, though not long ago he would have been tempted to. Diplomacy meant using other channels to learn the truth. "We'll consider your petition," he said.  
  
Quistis was gesturing covertly. With his permission, she stepped forward. "If I may ask, Mr. President, how many casualties have there been in these attacks?"  
  
This time Ferdid didn't quite quash the anger. He quickly forced his squared jaw into a smile. "Of course you can ask, young lady. Fortunately there's been relatively few. However, there have been deaths, and the property damage is astronomical. And we fear our luck will soon end as far as our citizens go. These circles are clever campaigners, but they don't care for anything but their own ends. People are only pawns to them, and if they decide murder will support their causes better, they won't hesitate to kill."  
  
Squall nodded, thinking as he did that the same could easily be said about most governments. Including this one, he imagined. Galbadia had been ruthless in its conquests even before the Sorceress's rule. He knew it was that rule, and the attack on the Gardens, that fueled some of his feelings, but it was also simple reason. Politicians tended to care for people's votes more than their persons. Not all, he admitted to himself, thinking of Esthar's president. But most...still, it was a petition, and he had to consider it as open-mindedly as he could. Even if his gut was telling him to reject the offer there and then. "We'll decide within the next three days."  
  
"Thank you," said the President with formal gratitude, and extended his hand toward the SeeD commander. Squall turned and left without a word, Quistis behind him. Zell, leaping forward, pumped energetically, then jogged after his friends.  
  
Two others caught up with them in the building's lobby. Squall recognized the green and beige of the pair auditing the meeting, and gave them a closer look. The woman was striking, certainly. Her long dress swept the floor and rose to cover her slender arms and neck, yet the velvet hardly concealed the well-formed curves beneath. Carefully styled auburn hair fell in waves down her back, braided with tiny golden charms to match her narrow throat chain. Yet none of this ornamentation detracted from her eyes, like the palest sapphires in a setting of dark red lashes, gazing boldly out of her smooth, oval face.  
  
"If I may have a word with you, Commander," the woman murmured in a low alto.  
  
Squall indicated for Zell and Quistis to go on ahead and faced her. "I am First Lady Jezikan," she told him, "Ferdid Deling's wife. I only wish to ask that you consider my husband's petition in our favor. The palace has been spared by those...people, but I fear..." Her musical voice caught a little. "I fear something may happen. Especially to my husband; there are those who hate him..." She trailed off, her rose cheeks paling, and placed one hand on his arm as if to steady herself. "Please," she breathed.  
  
He looked at her, and then down at the hand clutching his jacket.  
  
"We will pay you," she whispered, low in her throat, "in whatever coin you wish."  
  
He looked back up. She was a tall woman; her eyes were level with his, half-lidded but intense.  
  
"Milady," murmured the man, and she withdrew as he bowed to Squall. In the lady's shadow he was less noticeable than he might have been alone. The light tan of his suit was darker yet than his fair skin and still fairer hair. It shone like white gold in the sun, and if not for the faint pink flush his skin might have been marble. His face and body had the aesthetic, slender fragility of classical sculpture. But if he were a statue, his eyes were carved from onyx, a blue so black the irises could have been mistaken for pupils. There was something dangerous in those eyes, too dark to be read.  
  
"My lord commander," the man breathed, "it is...an *honor* to meet you. I scarce imagined I would have the chance." He daintily held out one white hand, the fingers dangling like limp petals.  
  
Squall regarded the offer silently. Jezikan laughed prettily and batted the man's hand away. "Oh, he's not the time for that, Dahl." She turned back to Squall, the gold charms twinkling in her hair. "You must excuse Lord Dahl. He's quite the follower of warriors and battles. I'm afraid you're something of a hero to him, Commander."  
  
"It's...nice to meet you," Squall said, realizing something was required of him before they would let him go.  
  
"Charmed," purred the woman.  
  
"Oh, *indeed*," Dahl gushed. "Wonderful--it was quite worth your coming just to see that Garden float down from the clouds, as if a jewel from the heavens! Even if you don't accept our petition--well, you have your *reasons*. You've done so many deeds; asking you for any more, it's practically overkill."  
  
Squall tried to tell if he were serious. The lord's smile was so vapid and his prattle so light it must have been affected, but who except an idiot would affect an idiot's demeanor? He knew more than one important personage who were quite intelligent but nonetheless fools. Dahl might be sincere, or sarcastic, or he might only be kissing up; it didn't affect Squall one way or another. Did it matter?  
  
But his eyes were unreadable. And the SeeD couldn't shake the impression of danger beyond their opaque ebon surface.  
  
"It was an honor and a pleasure, Commander," the lord said, and with another bow retreated to the council chamber.  
  
"Please, if you have need of anything, only ask," Jezikan said. "Or even if you only want." She lightly pressed her fingers to his glove, a butterfly's touch, and then she was gone in a swirl of green skirts. The scent of lavender lingered after the click of her heels on the tile faded.  
  
Squall sighed and started back to the Garden, wishing Rinoa had come with him.  
  
***  
  
Once at his office, Squall called a meeting with what most SeeD referred to as the 'inner circle'--Rinoa and his closest comrades in SeeD, plus Xu and a few trusted others. A short discussion of the Galbadian petition proved his uncertainty was shared by all. "It stinks," was Zell's major contribution. "Like a week-old fish." The others, though less blunt about it, seemed to be in agreement.  
  
He assigned them to investigate various angles of the petition. Once they were dispatched, Squall tried to contact Cid. His communication to the orphanage was immediately answered. "Hello?"  
  
Squall frowned. The person responding could not have been more than ten, a round-faced, pig-tailed imp of a girl. One of Edea's adopted children, now living at the orphanage since Ellone's SeeD ship had been retired. The girl's violet eyes went very large as she stared at her screen. "Wow wow! You're *him*!" Pulling herself so straight he suspected she was standing on her toes, she executed a reasonable facsimile of a salute. "What do you want, Mr. Commander Squall?"  
  
"Please get Mr. Kramer," Squall said.  
  
She vanished. A minute later a face he knew popped onto his screen--not the one he had asked for, though. A man, but rather younger than Cid Kramer, in a cap. "May I help you, sir--oh, it *is* you, sir! Hello, good morning! Can I help you?"  
  
Squall refrained from sighing. "Hello, Watt. I'm trying to talk to Cid. It's important. Is he there?"  
  
"Well, actually, no, sir." Watt scratched the back of his head. "He's not. Can I take a message?"  
  
"Where is he?...forget it. Is Edea there?"  
  
Watt nodded earnestly. "I think she's talking with Zone. I'll go get her right away, sir." He rushed off.  
  
The moment he was gone the girl returned, along with two other children. The oldest, a skinny, black-haired boy, squinted at Squall suspiciously through thick glasses. "Are you *really* Commander Leonhart?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
The suspicion vanished like hot dogs in front of Zell. "Oh, cool! Can we see your gunblade? Is it really five feet long? Do you--"  
  
"Mak, Palli, Danna," someone called offscreen, quietly but with enough force that all three children instantly snapped to attention. "Go finish your lessons, now. Thank you for answering the call, Danna."  
  
He heard the girl chirp, "You're welcome, Matron," as the kids ran off, and then Edea came into view. Petite and elegant, her long, black hair still had no gray, and her face was a match to his faded childhood memories. No longer bearing the weight of the sorceress's powers, she appeared much younger than her husband, though she was always more somber and that evened things out.  
  
Squall bowed his head. "Hello, Matron."  
  
She smiled, quiet but gentle. "Hello, Squall. You wanted to talk with Cid, didn't you? I'm afraid he's at Fisherman's Horizon now."  
  
"...Oh. Why...Never mind. Can I contact him there?"  
  
"You can contact him. As for why, he's overseeing the renovations on Galbadia Garden. He had some concerns." She paused. When he said nothing she went on, "It's already night there. You might want to wait for your evening to try. How urgent is this?"  
  
"It can wait until then."  
  
"Good. He needs his sleep." Edea smiled. "Make sure you get some, too. You and Rinoa and the others are all in good health? I'm glad. Good luck, Squall. I hope Cid can help you, but I know you'd do well regardless."  
  
"Thank you, Matron," he said, and meant it. He was nearly smiling when he disconnected, not quite as confused, some measure of confidence restored. It wasn't what she said exactly, or even how she said it; it was that she had said it at all. He didn't question Matron. She believed in him, and he wouldn't, couldn't, betray that trust.  
  
***  
  
"What kind of monster commands the SeeDs, anyway?"  
  
Jezikan was in a fine temper. She had maintained her poise for the rest of the council meeting, but once she had returned to her chambers all semblance of calm was lost. Her maids, familiar with these occasional flashes, wisely fled, taking the more fragile curios from the room as they did. Once she had stripped off her dress and torn the ornaments from her hair, the lady stalked to her closets to choose a new costume. Rejected garments were flung across the room as she snarled to herself.  
  
Dahl, slipping in through his regular side entrance, narrowly missed getting slapped by a copper-trimmed sleeve. He caught the attacking gown and laid it carefully across the bed, then settled himself beside it. "It could have gone worse," he remarked.  
  
"How?" Jezikan whirled on him. Dahl wondered if she was aware of how attractively her eyes sparkled when she was angry, how enticingly her breasts heaved. Almost definitely. She wouldn't miss a trick like that. "How could it have gone worse? Maybe if he were a woman--or a ceramic doll!" She flounced across the room to pick up the last dress thrown, pulling it on with short, violent jerks. "He's a *boy*, Dahl! Not even as old as our so-wonderful Knight. I should've had him wrapped around my finger before I even spoke."  
  
"Like you did with the Knight?" Dahl reminded her.  
  
"I wasn't trying with him," snapped Jezikan. "He's not important enough to bother. But this commander--what went wrong? What's wrong with him? A boy that callow, and his expression never changed once!"  
  
"Maybe he is too young. Or maybe *I* should give it a try," the fair man suggested with a smirk. "We don't know which way his tastes swing."  
  
"I suppose." Slightly mollified, she concentrated on tying the dress's lace sleeves.  
  
Dahl came up behind her to assist. "It doesn't matter anyway," he remarked as his dexterous fingers worked. "I've met him now. Enough, I think."  
  
"It better be enough." Jezikan turned her head enough to see him, keeping still while he arranged the dress. "They aren't going to go along with it. I could see that much on his face. They don't trust us."  
  
"But we'll still go ahead with it?"  
  
"Yes," she said. "We suspected this would be the case, and Ferdid knows it too. He's taking action tonight, if he can." When Dahl paused in irritation, she reached back to stroke his cheek. "At least we have them here. We've come too far now; even the SeeDs and their stone commander won't be able to stop us." Her eyes narrowed spitefully as her fingers combed the warlock's ashen hair. "And I'll laugh when he tries."  
  
***  
  
The SeeD commander was known to have impressive patience, especially given his youth. But bureaucracies had broken stronger than even him. It was fortunate Rinoa came when she did, or else Squall might have given in to his rising temptation to smash his fist through the communicator. When he heard the knock he gratefully raised his head, not caring who it was. Any interruption would be better than this. "Come in."  
  
"Doing anything important?" she inquired. "I want to tell you something."  
  
"Tell me. There's time." He glanced at the still screen. "They've had me on hold for twenty minutes."  
  
"What are you doing?" She came around the desk to peer over his shoulder. "Contacting Fisherman's Horizon? Why?"  
  
"Cid's there."  
  
"Oh. Because of Galbadia Garden? I wonder how that's going--you should ask him."  
  
"I will. But I have to report the situation here first."  
  
Rinoa nodded, taking a step back. "That's what I came about. You asked me to talk with Lank about the revolutionaries."  
  
"Yes. Is that--"  
  
"That's fine. If anyone knows anything, he would, and he'll tell me. I can tell him why I need to know, right? Then it'll be okay. He likes me, and he respects you, Squall. And he'll want the SeeDs on the right side. So it's not a problem. I just wanted to tell you that I might not be back tonight. Talking with Lank might take a while, and then..." She looked down, toeing the floor. "I might visit my dad. If he'll let me."  
  
"Rinoa..."  
  
"He will, I'm pretty sure. He loves me. I just...I haven't seen him at all since last year. There's a lot I need to talk about with him. Things I need to tell him about. Like the Sorceress. And you." She glanced up again, almost shyly. "So I'm going. Just wanted to let you know, so you don't worry if I'm not back tonight."  
  
"Thank you."  
  
She hesitated a mere instant, rocking back on her heels. "Oh...and I'm going somewhere else. A friend left me a message; he wants to see me tonight. I think I'm going to. Is that all right?"  
  
"Why ask me? It isn't my business--" The communicator beeped. Squall broke off as the screen flashed to life, asking the lady who came on, "Is Cid Kramer there?"  
  
"Who is this?" demanded the woman.  
  
He told her. Rinoa propped her elbows on the desk and watched as the woman, after verifying his identity, asked him to wait. The screen returned to the holding pattern. Squall banged his fists down on either side of the comm. "They still don't like us; they're doing everything they can to delay, even when I told them it was important. Damn it. I hate this." He noticed Rinoa was smiling. "What?"  
  
"Just thinking. A year ago you never would've admitted that. You'd have kept it all in here." She poked his forehead with one finger. "You're more fun when you let yourself be human."  
  
He sighed. "This is driving me nuts. She didn't even say how long it'd be."  
  
"You'll get through eventually. Good luck. I guess I should go, Lank will feed me dinner. You're sure you don't mind me seeing Seifer?"  
  
"No, that's your--Seifer?!"  
  
Rinoa had the grace to look embarrassed. "He's the friend. He sent a message a little while ago--it must have been right after the council meeting ended. He wants to talk with me tonight. Only an hour, he asked for. He swore on his honor no harm would come to me--he can be awfully formal, when he wants to be."  
  
"Rinoa, you said a friend--Seifer..."  
  
"He was my friend," said Rinoa, as soft as Matron and just as undeniable. "He was more to me, once."  
  
Once. At one time he might have been. A year divided then from now, and much pain. Battles and betrayal. Seifer had become the Sorceress's Knight; he had stood first at her side, fought for her and lead her troops against them. And when Ultimecia demanded it, he had given Rinoa to Adel, brought a girl he had perhaps at one time liked to the mouth of the beast and thrown her to it. Not smiling. But he had done it. He was no friend to her. No friend to any of them.  
  
Though he said nothing, it must have been visible on his face. Rinoa reached for his hand, caught it. "Squall, it wasn't his fault, not entirely. Ultimecia was controlling him--I think she always was, a little. Even when he was young, giving him that dream through Edea. She wanted a knight and she chose him. Like she chose me to do her evil...I know what it's like, to be controlled like that. How it feels not to be able to do anything, not even to fight it--to barely be aware of yourself. I understand what it was like for him. Maybe he wants to apologize now. And I want to forgive him."  
  
"Maybe. You don't know. Even if she was controlling him for a little while, it's still Seifer."  
  
"People change." Rinoa laughed, barely audibly. "I hate talking in cliches. But we do. We grow up, we get older, and things happen. I thought I had everything figured out, and then I met Seifer. And then you, and then Ultimecia...and I'm the Sorceress now. I'm not Ultimecia, but I'm not Rinoa Heartilly, either. Not the same one."  
  
"I know." He wondered if he could have loved that Rinoa as much. That princess of the Timber Forest Owls, bold and giddy and somehow much younger than she was now. And she had known Seifer then, when he was only an arrogant SeeD cadet.  
  
At one time Squall never would have noticed the differences, never would have cared. Rinoa wasn't the only one who had changed. Still, Seifer...  
  
"I'll be fine," she said. "I'm not going unarmed, and I'm junctioning more magic than Seifer could even hold. You don't need to worry."  
  
"I'm not," he denied, too quickly. "You shouldn't be in danger. If he gave his word, he'll probably keep it. But--"  
  
"I'll be careful." She let go of his hand, and then, without warning, she leapt on him, flinging her arms around his neck as she had when they first officially met, on the train in Timber. She was no longer leading a revolution, and he wasn't her hired mercenary, but some things remained the same. Though he hadn't put his arms around her then the way he did now. And she hadn't rested her head on his shoulder, murmuring, "You really don't need to worry. I liked Seifer. But I love you, Squall. That's never going to change."  
  
At his desk the communicator chirruped. Rinoa released him. "Duty calls. Mine and yours."  
  
"Be careful, please," he told her, and with a thumb's up and a smile she was gone.  
  
***  
  
In a private corner of the Minotaur's Horn and with only Rinoa, Lank was willing to talk. Most of what he had to say was no surprise to Rinoa, who had spent most of her life exposed to the hairy politics of Galbadia. The past year was reaching new levels of discord, she soon learned, of which Sorceress Edea's rule and the President's assassination were only overtures. The major problem now had a name, apparently--"Not Ferdid," Lank told her. "He's bad, but he's only a minnow. The shark... Maybe Jezikan, his wife--some would rather he were married to the sorceress herself. No few of the revolutionaries want Ferdid out because it will get *her* that much further away from power. She's a poison, and those they call terrorists are cutting to bleed out her venom. We're--I mean, they're hurting as few people as possible; if there were any other way to make them listen they'd do it. They're trying to save this nation, these 'terrorists' are."  
  
Rinoa couldn't make guarantees, but she promised Lank she would tell Squall everything, and she was fairly certain SeeD would reject the petition. Squall didn't like it much anyway. She wondered how Cid had advised him; the former headmaster wasn't in Galbadia, but he still might understand the situation. And Squall would in the end make his own decision--it would be the right one. She had no doubt of that.  
  
Seifer's designated meeting place was several blocks away. Rather than take the bus, she walked, seeing with her own eyes how much had changed since she was young. Very little; it might feel like years ago, but she was barely an adult, her childhood still close. The streets were darker than they had been, with many streetlamps smashed and not replaced, and more police and guards on patrol. But the shops' windows still shone well into the night, and the crowds were resplendent as always.  
  
She heard a howl somewhere behind her. Automatically she reached for her shooting star, then realized the call had a familiar ring. Turning, she found a large brown and white dog bounding toward her, its red tongue dangling between dripping canines.  
  
Rinoa frowned. "Angelo!" She crouched as pedestrians cleared out of the animal's path. "Here, boy. Heel!" The dog halted before her and thrust his wet nose into her hair, panting eagerly. "You're not a good dog," she informed him, scratching behind his ears. "You were supposed to stay at the Garden." Not that Angelo ever did. The one command he had never completely mastered was 'stay.' If she went with others he would usually remain behind, moping. But if he knew she was alone, or in a dangerous situation, he tended to pop up, regardless of what she had told him to do.  
  
"You aren't going to go home, are you? Come on, then." The dog at her heels, she set off again. On her way to meet with Seifer. Seifer Almasy, former SeeD cadet, former Sorceress's Knight. Former friend...maybe more. Had she loved him? She wasn't quite sure. She knew he had never loved her. And what she had felt that summer with him was nothing compared to what she felt with Squall now. It had been exciting, and fun, and she had craved it desperately, just the idea of being in love. Now, though...she didn't know if she was in love. That was a light feeling, giddy and absorbing. What she had now, what she and Squall had, wasn't only emotion. It was reality; it was being. She loved him, and was loved by him, and everything they were was multiplied a thousand times over for it.  
  
But Seifer had been a friend if nothing else. And she wondered how much of what he had later become was her own fault. If she hadn't asked him to Timber, asked him to attack Vinzer Deling, might the Sorceress never have found him? Never have taken him to be her Knight, banishing everything else he might have been. He had given his soul to Ultimecia, and now that she was gone, what did he have left?  
  
The message he had left her, voice only, hadn't sounded like the Seifer she had once known. Still brazen, not begging, and calm without being peaceful. But there was something missing in the baritone, something broken. The confidence that she had admired in him, the feeling that he could take on the world and maybe come out on top, that was gone. He had no challenge now, nothing to fight for, his dream irrevocably shattered.  
  
Angelo whimpered and bumped his head against her hip. Startled out of her thoughts, she stroked her pet's head. "What is it?"  
  
The dog whined again, then growled, deep in his throat. Instantly Rinoa raised her arm, the straps of her shooting star tightening around the flexed muscle. With her back to the closest building, she scanned the faces of the passing people. Her battle-ready stance was winning her a few odd looks, but nothing suspicious--  
  
The prick was no worse than an insect's sting, but when she looked down a tuft of green feathers protruded from her arm. She wrenched the dart out, her head already spinning. Angelo growled as two soldiers marched up. One of the armored men flicked his hand; sparks from his fingers flew into the dog's eyes.  
  
Rinoa felt the energy surge. Fire magic. With a pained howl, Angelo ran. Not far, but enough that the other soldier could take her arm. "Are you feeling all right, Miss? Here, come with us."  
  
She tried to tear away. "No--stop! Help!" In her mind she summoned the magic to cleanse herself, esuna's power driving away the dart's drug. Then there was another prick, and with it the whisper of a sleep spell. That darkness fell too fast to banish.  
  
The soldiers caught her as she crumpled. Just a young lady who must have over-indulged, swooning on the streets. Nothing anyone would deign to notice, especially when she had guards to protect her. Only Angelo tried to stop them. Another sleep spell knocked the dog out cold. The soldiers left him lying in an alley, and spirited their prize away.  
  
***  
  
to be continued...  
  
------------------------------  
  
From: XmagicalX Subject: [FF8][FanFic] Promise of Nightmares, Ch 3 X-Moderation-Queue-Date: Wed, 21 Jun 2000 01:33:18 GMT  
  
The story continues! Apologies for the delay; I meant to get this chapter out last month, but was delayed. The next should be more timely. Hope some folk are enjoying this thing; feel free to let me know!  
  
- XmagX  
  
Final Fantasy belongs to SquareSoft. Find Chapters I & II here:  
  
Let the show go on...  
  
***  
  
The Promise of Nightmares  
  
A Final Fantasy VIII story by XmagicalX  
  
Chapter III: Pawns  
  
***  
  
As much as Squall pondered Cid's words, he did not grow more comfortable with them.  
  
"I don't have all the answers, Squall."  
  
Of course he didn't. The gods themselves couldn't answer every question that could be asked. And Cid was a mortal man--too mortal. It hadn't been on a whim that he had stepped down from SeeD leadership; his health had forced the decision on him. One day, eventually, he would have no answers at all, except the final one.  
  
But not now. Not for a long time yet, Squall believed. Hoped. The Gardens without Cid--who could replace him? Who would?  
  
...No. Too much to think about. Instead he concentrated on the Galbadian situation. Cid had given advice, nothing more. Once contacted, the former headmaster was perfectly willing to talk--but that was all. "SeeD is under your command, Squall," Cid had told him. "This is your decision. Would you serve Galbadia better by following the government's demands, or rejecting them?"  
  
"I don't know."  
  
"You'll have to find out, then. I'm not there; I'm not in a position to understand the situation. You are. It's your responsibility to decide, I suggest as soon as possible. There are others also in need of SeeD. Think hard. I know you'll make the right choice."  
  
There was little Squall could say to that. He broke the connection, then realized he had never broached Cid's reasons for being in FH.  
  
Irvine entered an instant after that occurred to him. His interruption coming on top of everything else, Squall didn't even let him get a sentence into his report. "Can't this wait?"  
  
"Not according to you, it can't. You said you wanted whatever we found out as soon as we found it. I've talked with a couple buddies in the country. Sounds like the revolutionaries are more popular than the real government, out there, anyway. Of course that could be just 'cause of taxes--"  
  
"I'll take that under consideration," Squall cut him off.  
  
"Whoa!" Irvine folded his arms. "Should I salt my hat, or do you want to bite my head off without any fixings? What's up, Commander?"  
  
As shortly as possible, Squall told him Cid's response. The sharpshooter shook his head. "Damn, you're really stuck in this leader-thing, aren't you? Good thing you can handle it." Irvine glanced at him pointedly. "You know, we all trust you for a reason. You always come through. Cid knew what he was doing when he put you in charge."  
  
Squall almost protested it. True, he had been managing adequately. But there had been no emergencies, no questions. Even when fighting the Sorceress, the most difficult battle of his life, his duty had been clear. Now...  
  
"Still." Irvine thoughtfully tipped back his hat. "I think it was a bad choice for you. Great for the rest of us, but you're getting the short end of the stick. You don't get to have fun, because you have to be a leader. Responsible and mature and all. Your birthday's after mine, but sometimes you're like a million years older. Even though you're awfully young to be a commander. Does that bother you, how everyone hiring us is older?"  
  
"...Kind of."  
  
It doesn't bother *them*, usually. We're heroes. They don't think of us as kids. When I was little, I always wanted to be grown up, but life was a hell of a lot easier before."  
  
Squall had never thought of life being easy or hard. He couldn't remember wanting to grow up--not that he hadn't wanted to, either. If he lived, he would become an adult; what he wanted or thought about that meant nothing. Yet he understood what Irvine was clumsily expressing. "Responsibility makes things more complicated."  
  
"You're telling me." Slouching in a chair, the SeeD swiveled it idly.  
  
"If that's all..."  
  
Irvine straightened marginally without standing. "Any reason you're chasing me out, commander sir? Like, Rinoa's coming up? Or is she behind your desk--"  
  
He made a show of peering over it. Squall rested his forehead against his hand. "No. Rinoa's not here. She's...meeting with Seifer."  
  
"*Ah*," said Irvine, in the tone of one greatly enlightened. "So that's it. She mentioned she was planning to go--glad she told you. You don't have anything to worry about."  
  
"I'm not worried--"  
  
"She can take on Seifer, easy, if he's going for a fight. And if he's not, he just wants to talk. She was a little worried you'd be jealous, but that's not your style, and you don't have any reason to be anyway. Rinoa might've liked Seifer way back when, but she loves you. You just keep that in mind. Know it won't make the cold, lonely night any shorter, but it's something special." Irvine winked as he strode out the door.  
  
The reports could wait until morning, and he needed the time to think. Squall decided to retire to his quarters before any more friends arrived to cheer him up.  
  
Though his lights were on most of the night, he came to no definite conclusions. And Irvine was right. The night was long, and when he finally slept, it was as cold as space, and as empty.  
  
***  
  
There was no light, and around her were voices of people she had never met. She couldn't make out their words, and when she tried to speak her mouth felt like it was filled with rubber. She raised her hands to pull the mask away, but her hands wouldn't move, like dead logs her arms were, and then she realized her eyes were open but she still saw only blackness. She was paralyzed and she was blind, and deaf except for the strangers' voices, and the mask suffocated her scream...  
  
Even drugged and spelled, the girl struggled against the bonds tying her to the bed. Dahl shook his head at her weak motions. Half that dosage of tranquilizer or the hold spell alone should have kept her comatose, and yet she fought both. The minor mage stationed outside had to constantly renew the spell, lest she break it. The strength of her magic, or her will, was formidable. And no surprise, considering who she was. What she was.  
  
He turned to the other men in the cramped room. "I won't do it. I already told you."  
  
"Warlock." Ferdid made the title a curse. "You will do what's necessary--"  
  
"It's too dangerous," Dahl snapped. "She's the Sorceress. Do you have any idea the power that implies?" She didn't look it, he had to admit. Only a slip of a girl, pale and pretty but not approaching Jezikan's elegance. She looked as if Ferdid could snap her in two between his large hands. Her closed eyelids twitched as she shifted, her dark hair falling across her face and over the pillow in damp, limp tendrils.  
  
"Of course we know!" The doctor's heavily accented voice was brimming with outrage. "Without that power, this endeavor would be useless! Utterly pointless! But if we can tap it..." He bent over the girl, peering at her intently. "Or find its source--I have found ways to block it, yes, but producing it, ah, that is the puzzle--"  
  
"Doctor," Ferdid said, "please keep the task at hand in mind. We called the SeeD to get her. Can you complete the device now that you have her?"  
  
"I might, I might. We shall have to see, shan't we?"  
  
"If you can hold her long enough," Dahl muttered, watching the girl slowly twist against the binding cords.  
  
Ferdid's brow lowered. "If you'd use your power--"  
  
"Forget the abomination, Lord President," said the doctor. "We have no need of his false magic."  
  
"I'm only as abominable as you made me, doctor," Dahl snarled. "And my power is no spell your trinkets can defend against. Don't drive me to test it on you again." As if weary of threats his anger abruptly faded. He tossed his pale hair back, gesturing like a fop. "These confines are stifling. If there's nothing else, President Deling, I'll leave."  
  
Ferdid watched him exit. "He's more dangerous than this girl, I'll wager," he growled once the lord was gone.  
  
"A matter of perspective, my Lord President," the doctor jabbered. "Danger and power are close, but not the same. This child here, she is great in both, and we must use both to the maximum. And court danger ourselves, while we gather power." He hovered over her proprietarily, stubby fingers not quite touching her brow. "A fascinating study, even if it does not succeed. Do not fear, my Lord President; the device will be completed yet. With all its power and danger, yes. As much power as you desire. As much as anyone desires."  
  
***  
  
Squall awoke with a vague uncomfortable feeling in the pit of his stomach, as if something wasn't digesting right, though he hadn't eaten since dinner the night before. It was barely dawn when he threw on his jacket and left his room. The hall was empty. So was Rinoa's room. She must have stayed at her father's.  
  
He took a carafe of tea from the dining hall and headed up to the bridge, where he proceeded to try to contact General Caraway. He was informed by a pleasant electronic voice that the general's residence was unavailable. No reason was given.  
  
The hot tea tasted fine, but the discomfort in his belly only increased. It was still early; no one would be awake for a little while. There was time. Putting the computer on standby, he started for the door, just as Nida entered.  
  
"'Morning, Commander!" the pilot exclaimed, startled. "I thought I was the first of the day shift up."  
  
"Why are you here at all?" Squall asked. "The Garden's not going anywhere yet."  
  
"Doesn't mean we just leave the bridge empty."  
  
"...Oh." Of course; the need for security was obvious. By now Nida probably thought of him as 'Squall the moron,' considering how many idiotic things he'd said and done in the other SeeD's presence. Starting with forgetting his name after they had graduated together and going on from there.  
  
None of that showed in Nida's face, however. His smile looked sympathetic, actually. "So are we going somewhere soon, or not? Have you decided?"  
  
"I think so," Squall said. "We're rejecting the petition. I'll make a general announcement when I get back."  
  
"Okay--wait a sec, get back from where?"  
  
Squall was already out the door. Alone in the office, Nida waved after him. "Good luck, sir." He swiped the steaming cup of tea from the desk and sipped contemplatively. "Whatever the heck you're up to."  
  
***  
  
There were guards outside the Caraway mansion--not private security but Galbadian soldiers in full body armor. Two were standing at the front gate when he arrived, the slump in their postures suggesting that they had been there for a while. Still attentive, though; when he approached they immediately raised their blades. "Who're you?"  
  
"Squall Leonhart. SeeD Commander."  
  
"Why are you here?"  
  
"I want to enter."  
  
"Really, boy? Never have guessed it." The other man sniggered. "Why do you want in?"  
  
"I want to see someone."  
  
"I'm sorry," the soldier said, not sounding it. "You can't see the general. This house is off-limits until the President declares otherwise. So scram."  
  
"I'm not trying to see the general," Squall said. "And I will go in." In one smooth motion he drew Lionheart and crossed both their swords with the glimmering gunblade. "I don't want to fight, but I will."  
  
Both pairs of eyes fixed on his weapon. They didn't miss its unnatural glow in the brightening morning, nor the graceful familiarity with which he wielded it. One guard swallowed audibly. "You really are him--holy sh--"  
  
"We're sorry, Commander," the other said, holding his arms stiff to keep his sword from contacting Lionheart. "Go right in."  
  
There were more soldiers on the grounds, but they ignored him, assuming since he walked the path openly he must have permission. Unobstructed, he marched to the front door and rang the bell, then banged on the knocker. The heavy oak portal swung open, revealing a middle-aged, tuxedoed servant. "What's going on?" Squall demanded. "Why are there guards here? What's happened to Rinoa?"  
  
As the butler gaped, a voice behind him spoke. "Rinoa? What about my daughter?"  
  
The servant stepped aside as General Caraway strode forward. Even out of uniform, his neatly pressed civvies had a military cast, and his posture was ramrod straight as any ensign's. Iron gray hair and steely eyes completed the image of the perfect career soldier, and the strength of his hand grip attested that he was one officer who could handle himself in battle as well as his troops.  
  
At the same time, he was not one to underestimate others. There was a definite measure of respect in the gaze he leveled on Squall. "Commander, welcome back to my house." He lead the SeeD to his study, then turned to him. "Now what were you asking? What trouble is my girl in now?"  
  
"You don't know?" The general had no reason to lie, and yet Squall found himself searching the man for signs of dissembling. "She's not here?"  
  
Caraway sighed. "I haven't seen Rinoa since she ran off with you and your SeeDs last year. I'm only her father; why would she be here?"  
  
"She was planning to come last night. She was thinking she might stay over, and when I couldn't call this morning--" He forcibly reigned himself in. "I'm sorry for disturbing you. When I saw the soldiers outside--"  
  
"I see," the general said understandingly. "The soldiers are my own problem, and the incommunicado as well."  
  
"Your problem? I thought you were the chief general."  
  
"I was. Technically I still am, but it's a sorry commander who's put under house arrest by his own troops. It goes past mutiny and into treason, if it weren't for the President's order."  
  
"Why?"  
  
"Why the order? Because I disagree with certain recent policies." Squall nodded, remembering who had orchestrated the attempted assassination of the Sorceress. "And because I'm difficult to shut up. They can't kill me; if they depose me, they'll have an uprising in the army. Once the soldiers join the revolutionaries' side, the game is over. They're doing their best to keep the men loyal to me as far away as they can, and fill the city with those they commissioned themselves...though right now there's few enough soldiers in the city at all. They're up to something, but I don't know what--"  
  
"General, excuse me," Squall cut in. "This is important, but I need to get back to the Garden and find out what happened to Rinoa--"  
  
"I expect she's fine," Caraway said. "It's hard for me to accept sometimes, but she's no little girl anymore, and she can take care of herself. She's got plenty of friends in the city with whom she could stay with. She might be trying to contact you now."  
  
"Then I better go." Though he didn't believe it. She might have many places to be indeed, but she had intended to come here, and once Rinoa decided something she rarely changed her mind. And she had decided to see a man who wasn't her friend, no matter what she might have thought, or what he might have been. The unease in his stomach was beginning to manifest as worry. Though it did no good to panic when he was already doing whatever he could, it was not a feeling he could ignore, however futile it was. "I'll come back soon, hopefully."  
  
"I'll expect you." The general ushered Squall back into the hall. Before the threshold to the entryway he paused. "I have to ask. I've been hearing...stories. Rumors about what might have happened last year. Nothing certain, but you were in the middle of it, weren't you. All of you. My daughter included."  
  
Squall nodded. Caraway drew a deep breath. "Squall, tell me honestly. Is my daughter a sorceress?"  
  
"Yes." The general's expression was implacable. Squall tried to lessen the blow. "Ultimecia is gone. The Sorceress you wanted assassinated. We stopped her. But Rinoa inherited the Sorceress Edea's powers. Rinoa is a sorceress. The only one, we think." He still couldn't read the older man's face. "Do you still want her to come here?"  
  
Now his expression changed. "Yes. She's my daughter. This--this affects my feelings for her as much as it affects your own."  
  
Squall studied him for a long moment. "General Caraway, I love Rinoa."  
  
There was a minute softening of the general's iron jaw. "I know, son."  
  
***  
  
"What do you mean, he left?"  
  
Zell's shout could have been heard in Trabia Garden. A lesser man might have faltered. Nida, who was SeeD, a year older, and an inch taller than Zell, and also had known him for years, didn't flinch. "I mean, the commander left. Like, he used his legs and walked out the door. And out of the Garden, I guess."  
  
"And he didn't say where he was going?" Quistis pressed.  
  
Nida shrugged. "That's Squall," Selphie and Irvine said together, leaning forward in perfect synchronization. Selphie ruined the effect by covering her mouth to block a giggle as Irvine continued, "He probably went to see Rinoa. She's not here either, notice. She went to see her father last night; she's probably still there. And so's Squall, I bet."  
  
"He might be there. But I don't think Rinoa is." The five SeeDs turned as Dr. Kodowaki entered. "I was taking my morning constitutional when I noticed a problem by the main entrance." Before she could explain, a furry form rushed past her legs and leapt to the center of the room, barking furiously.  
  
"Angelo!" Selphie cried, rushing forward to throw her arms around the dog.  
  
"He was outside the gate, fighting to get back in. The idiot Galbadians keeping watch didn't know what to make of him," the doctor said. "I practically had to bribe them to let him through--they thought we'd have a no pets rule, I suppose. One wonders what they'd make of the training grounds. So what's he doing here, without Rinoa?"  
  
"That's the question." Quistis folded her arms in an attempt to look dependably mature, and therefore unafraid.  
  
Selphie didn't bother trying. Her eyes were round with worry. "Angelo, what's wrong? Where's Rinoa?"  
  
"Dogs can't talk," Zell muttered.  
  
"I *know*," Selphie shot back. "But if he could--something's wrong. He knows it. Rinoa must be in trouble--"  
  
"Probably."  
  
Squall's quiet tone was moderate as always, but every head in the room instantly snapped to his figure in the doorway. Quistis took an automatic step toward him, then saw something in his face and stopped. "Squall, where's Rinoa?" Wanting her to be behind him, knowing she wasn't, seeing his expression. His eyes, falling on Angelo, Selphie's arms clasped around the dog's ruffed neck. Anyone who thought Squall showed no emotions just didn't know where to look for them.  
  
"I don't know where she is," he said. "But I think Seifer does. I'm going to ask him."  
  
"Just ask him? Man, we'll tear it out of him!" Zell shook his gloved fists in the general direction of Deling City.  
  
"I'm going to ask him first," Squall said.  
  
"Alone?" Zell wasn't the only one to react to that. "You can't go alone, not with Seifer," he verbalized all their protests. "He's got a gunblade too, you know! Even if you're junctioning every guardian force we got--I mean, you're good, Squall, you're better than Seifer, easy, but he cheats! And if Rinoa's at stake here--"  
  
"You're right," Squall agreed, then, before Zell could celebrate, turned to Instructor Trepe. "Quistis, will you come?"  
  
"Of course." She joined him by the door. "Before we go--about Galbadia's petition--"  
  
"Yeah." Squall looked them over. "We're rejecting it. But I want to talk to Seifer before I tell the President. We might need to search Deling City to find Rinoa, and we'll need the unrestricted access. Does that sound right?"  
  
They all agreed. "You go get Rinoa," Irvine told him. "And let us know who did this."  
  
The others nodded. You don't take on SeeD without retribution. Zell shadow-boxed the air, eagerly imagining what he could do to the person responsible for this.  
  
That is, he corrected, watching his commander's eyes, if there was anything left after Squall found them.  
  
***  
  
Quistis didn't ask how Squall knew where to go. She followed silently as he maneuvered through the streets to a brick building, set between the council hall and the army barracks. He didn't have to knock; the door was open. They ascended the porch steps and walked through marble-floored hallway to a small central courtyard. A training ground, to judge from the circle of beaten earth and the equipment racks. It was empty save for Seifer. He stood in the center, his gunblade sheathed at his side and his arms crossed. "So she decided not to come," he said as they approached, then raised an eyebrow sardonically. "One against two? Hardly sporting. I'd have thought better of you, Instructor. Squall. Or should it be Commander?"  
  
"Whatever. Where's Rinoa?"  
  
"Rinoa?" Seifer frowned. "You'd know better than me. Wherever you left her, so she'd be safe--I wasn't going to hurt her. You could have trusted me that much." He sounded disappointed. More than that, he sounded serious. Honesty, not the bravado of a lie.  
  
Maybe she could shock him out of the act. "Seifer, it's too late for that. She's gone, and you know where she is."  
  
"Rinoa's gone?" It had to be an act, and yet the mix of surprise, even concern, in his voice sounded genuine. That wasn't right. Quistis was used to reading Seifer easily. It wasn't that he wore his heart on his sleeve so much as that he had few emotions to display. Two, generally--pleased, when someone acted to further his ends, or annoyed, if he believed someone was hindering him. Only when Squall entered the picture would he show true anger.  
  
But here was a different side of Seifer, and how much of it was deception she couldn't tell. Duplicity was one of the few faults he lacked; even when he was the Sorceress's Knight, he had never pretended otherwise.  
  
If Squall noticed, it didn't matter to him. "Rinoa's gone," he said flatly. "She went to see with you last night, and then was going to visit General Caraway. She never arrived there."  
  
"She never arrived here, either." Could that apprehension be sincere? "I just thought--she's been missing since last night?"  
  
"You don't know." It was a statement, not a question.  
  
"On my honor as a knight, Squall, I had nothing to do with it."  
  
"Then why are you here?" Quistis demanded, ignoring the claim of honor from a man with none.  
  
The haughty scorn with which he turned to her was more what she expected from him. "I wouldn't expect you to understand, Instructor, but there are some who actually appreciate ability. I may not have been accepted as one of your so-glorious elite, but the army here is happy to learn from a knight."  
  
"A knight?" How long had it been since anyone had seriously claimed that title, outside of the Sorceress's thrall? "So now you're proudly training thugs?"  
  
"Can your SeeD here do anything but ask insulting questions, Commander?" Seifer raised his chin insolently. "If you wanted backup, I'm surprised you didn't bring along Dincht. If he was scared you could've just dangled a hot dog in front of him."  
  
"Please don't insult Zell," Squall said quietly.  
  
"Why shouldn't I insult that chicken-wuss?"  
  
"Because he's my friend."  
  
"Why?" Seifer challenged.  
  
Squall shrugged, as if he had no idea himself why he would have any friends. Seifer waited, then lifted his shoulders and let them fall. "I don't know where Rinoa is. You can believe me, or not, but you'll figure out it's true eventually. And soon, I hope, because she might be in real trouble. There's dangerous people here. I wouldn't want her hurt."  
  
Quistis watched him narrowly. "Why would you even care?"  
  
He didn't look at her but at Squall, steadily. There was a sober depth to his expression as he answered, a hand resting on his gunblade's hilt, not threatening but as one might swear an oath. "I'm the Sorceress's Knight. Even with Ultimecia gone, I'm still the Sorceress's Knight."  
  
"Rinoa has a knight already," Squall said, and his face was just as serious. "But I believe you."  
  
"Just like that?" Quistis looked at Seifer, looked to Squall. Then nodded without a word and fell back to her commander's side, just as her communicator chirped. Quickly she snatched it from her belt. "Yes?"  
  
"Quistis, you're with the commander? We need him back here." Even over the radio Xu sounded disturbed. "I'm sorry to interrupt, but this is urgent. We just got a message--I can't give it over an unsecure line. Not here."  
  
Also listening, Squall nodded. "We're coming," Quistis responded quickly, and switched it off.  
  
As they turned to leave, Seifer spoke. "Squall. When I first came here, they asked me to lead their troops in battle. I said I wouldn't. And then they asked me where you sunk the Lunatic Pandora. I said I didn't know. It's over. All that stuff. For me, it's over. That's what I wanted to tell Rinoa."  
  
"I understand," Squall said. "But it's not over for her. For us." He bowed his head once. "Goodbye, Seifer."  
  
Seifer raised his hand, like a lord might take leave of his vassals, or a knight honor a peer. "Goodbye."  
  
------------------------------  
  
"It's not about Rinoa." Xu answered Squall's first question before he could ask it. She met them at the lift to give them a quick rundown on their way to the office. "Nida picked it up about half an hour. It's a repeating communique; we listened to it, checked its legitimacy, and then called you. It's from the Shumi village, Commander. They're asking for our help."  
  
"The Shumi?" Quistis exclaimed. The Shumi were proud of their self-sufficiency, and generally had little respect for humanity; they didn't actively dislike human beings, but with a few exceptions they tended to avoid foreigners. That humans sometimes enslaved moombas, one evolved form of Shumi, probably didn't improve this attitude.  
  
Though the Gardens had initially been funded and mastered by NORG, a Shumi merchant and something of a renegade to his people, Squall knew of no instance that they had ever hired SeeD before. "What do they want us for?"  
  
"Defense," Xu said shortly, and they entered the office. To a person, the SeeDs present looked distressed. Nida, seated behind the desk, played the message.  
  
The Shumi's bubbling accent was crystal clear; it was hard to interpret nonhuman emotional tones, but if Squall were to guess he'd have said the speaker sounded scared. "Burururu. We ask for the help of the SeeD of the Gardens and Commander Squall. Our village is under attack. Our defenses are inadequate against the Galbadian soldiers and crafts. Fushushu--please help us. They seek to take our people. They are searching and looting our homes. We beg for your protection. Bururu. Come, please." The message cut off with a burst of static.  
  
"It's coming from the village," Xu said. "As far as we can tell, it's not a trick."  
  
No, the Shumi would have no reason to trick them. "Could be a slave raid," Irvine said soberly. "Galbadia usually trades for moomba workers, but if they needed a lot for some reason..."  
  
"What are we going to do, Squall?" Zell demanded. "Those Galbadian bastards can't get away with this--we gotta help the Shumi--"  
  
"But what about Rinoa?" Selphie asked. "Did you find anything?"  
  
"No," Quistis replied for him. "Except that Seifer doesn't know about it. But he implied he might know who did it--he said there are dangerous people around."  
  
Right on cue there was a knock at the door. "Come in," Squall ordered, but they only knocked again.  
  
Zell leapt over and flung the door open. Then balled his fists. "*You*!"  
  
"Yeah, us." Ignoring the accusation, and the wary stares of the other SeeDs, Fujin and Raijin strode past Zell and headed toward Squall.  
  
The commander watched them with solemn curiosity. "Why are you here?"  
  
"We came in through the back. A secret entrance, ya know?" Raijin offered. "Didn't want the Galbadians seeing us, ya know?"  
  
"Why'd you come?" Squall repeated.  
  
"REQUEST," Fujin supplied.  
  
"Seifer, of course," clarified Raijin. "He asked us to come, ya know? Soon as you all left he told us to. There were things he wanted to tell you that he couldn't there, ya know? Being in the city."  
  
"SECRET."  
  
Squall nodded. "You came to tell us?"  
  
"And to help. Seifer told us to help you. Whatever you need to do, we're here."  
  
"You're going to help us? Just 'cause Seifer said so?" Zell demanded belligerently.  
  
"Yeah. We're still his posse, ya know?"  
  
"Great!" Irvine grinned, then caught Zell's glare. "What? I've seen these guys fight--better them on our side!"  
  
"What did you come to tell us?" Squall asked them.  
  
"Several things." Fujin stepped forward, garnering stares from those who had never heard her use more than a single word at a time, let alone a normal voice. Accustomed to letting Raijin talk, her speech was soft and halting, but articulate nonetheless. "First, Rinoa is probably unharmed. And she won't be. She was taken because they know she is the Sorceress. They would not risk hurting her."  
  
"Who's they?" Squall demanded tightly.  
  
"The President, and his wife."  
  
"Lady Jezikan, ya know," Raijin specified. "She's a witch, even if she's not a sorceress. And then there's the other guy, Lord something--"  
  
"Lord Dahl, the Warlock," Fujin said. "He works for Jezikan. There are others, not just soldiers."  
  
"I met Jezikan and Dahl," Squall said. "Dahl's called the Warlock?"  
  
Raijin shrugged. "Think it's because it sounds cool, ya know? No one ever says he does magic. Seifer doesn't like him."  
  
"He doesn't like any of them," Fujin said.  
  
"But he's sure willing to let them pay him--"  
  
"Zell, please." Squall turned back to Raijin and Fujin. "Do you or Seifer know where they might be holding Rinoa?"  
  
"Not really. They don't tell us secrets, ya know?"  
  
"SEIFER." Fujin slipped back into her normal mode of speech.  
  
"Yeah, Seifer might guess. He's been--"  
  
"All right. Thank you for the information." Squall looked at the circle of people around him. "I'm going to call the President and tell him we're refusing his petition. I won't mention Rinoa or the Shumi village attack. Tonight I'm going back, when Seifer won't be afraid of anyone overhearing, and find out what else he knows. Irvine, since you know the city, I want you to come with me. The rest of you will take the Garden to the Shumi at maximum speed and stop the Galbadians. Try not to engage them unless you have to. Leave the Ragnorak shielded in the mountains outside the city, and Rinoa and I will join you in it as soon as we can." He faced them. "Okay?"  
  
"Sounds fine to me," Irvine said, smiling. Selphie and Zell nodded agreement.  
  
Quistis and Xu exchanged glances. "All right, Commander."  
  
Squall turned to Raijin and Fujin. "What do you want to do? Go back to Seifer?"  
  
Raijin shook his head. "He told us to help you, ya know? We'll go with you or the Garden."  
  
"Fine. Decide what you'd rather do. I'm going to contact Galbadia and get ready. You leave for the Shumi village by nightfall." Squall was out the door before anyone could reply.  
  
"Definitely the commander, ya know?" Raijin remarked to no one in particular.  
  
***  
  
If the call had come two minutes later, Squall would already have been on his way. As it was he paused on the threshold of his room, debating whether to answer the chime. Duty won over urgency. "Commander Squall here."  
  
He wasn't expecting the face that flashed onscreen. Were it not for the green eyes, he might have been looking into a mirror of the future, seeing a reflection of himself aged thirty years. Squall didn't need anyone to point out the similarity; he had noticed it himself, the first time he had actually met the man in person. Laguna Loire, ex-Galbadian soldier, former traveling journalist, now the leader of the most powerful country in the world. A man of many titles. Mr. Loire, President of Esthar. Sir Laguna, in a couple of cheesy old movies most people thankfully didn't know existed.  
  
Squall could use another, but didn't. He had called no one 'Father' for all of his life; it was too late to begin now. That this might be disappointing to his father Squall realized, but it wasn't enough to change his ways.  
  
"Laguna," he said instead.  
  
"Hello, Squall." Laguna looked him over, thoughtfully, without speaking. He had come a long way from the moronic soldier he once had been, but as far as Squall was concerned he still had a fair amount to go. Though his plan had been behind Ultimecia's final defeat. The mind behind those guileless emerald eyes was shrewder than they let on.  
  
Squall quickly tired of the silent regard. "What is it?" he said. "I'm in a hurry."  
  
"Going to the Shumi village?"  
  
Laguna knew about that? "The Garden is."  
  
"What about you?"  
  
He didn't have time for this. "I have to stay here. Something's come up. Rinoa's in trouble." That should be enough. If there was one duty Laguna put stock in, it was love, the importance of aiding those one loved.  
  
"How bad?" Laguna asked, worry crinkling the corners of his eyes.  
  
"I don't know. Her life might not be in danger. She's been kidnapped by the Galbadians."  
  
"Because she's a Sorceress?"  
  
He definitely was brighter than he looked. Or acted, for that matter. Squall somehow still felt like the adult in the conversation. "Yes. I don't know exactly what they want her for, but that probably has something to do with it."  
  
"Squall, that's important, but...so are the Shumi. You have a responsibility to them--"  
  
As if Laguna could lecture him on responsibility. Laguna who abandoned his duty as a soldier to wander the world. Laguna who had left Raine, his wife by everything except the law, and never returned, not before she died, not even long enough to find out he had a son. Laguna who danced through life relying on luck and faith in people's better nature, and for some reason had never been let down.  
  
Squall tried to keep his resentment from boiling over. "The Garden is going--"  
  
"They asked for you, Squall." How Laguna knew that Squall could only guess. Esthar had probably picked up the Shumi's broadcast. "They don't like asking people for help, you know. But they respect you. If the Garden comes without you, and they don't think you care at all--it's wrong. It's against everything the Gardens are for."  
  
Whatever the Gardens were for. Laguna talked like he knew. Maybe he did; Cid and he might even have discussed it. Squall wished he had been let in on that secret as well. No time to get into that now, though. "If the Shumi are so important, why don't you go help them?"  
  
Laguna's face fell. "I want to. But we've got the city--" meaning the entire continent--"closed off now. We're in the final stages of the exterminations." The exterminations, Squall guessed, were of the moon monsters the Lunatic Pandora had called down to Tear's Point and flooded all of Esthar. That it had taken only a year to deal with the aftermath of the Lunar Cry was a credit to Esthar's power. The barren lands around the city-country would probably still be infested in a century, but at least citizens wouldn't be eaten now. "They won't let me leave the palace for anything," Esthar's President said. "Kiros would kill me. That's why I called you."  
  
Because if Laguna couldn't go, the SeeD commander was the next best thing. His lineage was the main reason the Shumi held him in such high regard, Squall knew. It was Laguna whom they truly honored; his resemblance to his father was the key to their respect for him.  
  
Never mind that Laguna had told him that wasn't it at all, that they heeded not his bloodline or his face, but his heart. Which didn't explain to Squall why moombas had a tendency to call him 'Laguna'--father and son might have the same blood, but not the same heart. Laguna hadn't tried to explain that. He'd only laughed when Squall mentioned it.  
  
"Laguna, I can't go to the Shumi village either. Rinoa needs me."  
  
"The Shumi need you. Rinoa needs a rescue, but your friends are fighters too," Laguna said. "They definitely fight a hell of a lot better than me 'n Kiros 'n Ward ever did. Send them. That's the way you've gotta work this. Delegation. That's what leadership's all about."  
  
But there were some things that couldn't, shouldn't, be delegated. No matter how much he trusted his friends and their skills. He did, implicitly. That wasn't the issue.  
  
Then what was? He didn't have to say it to know Laguna's response. Or maybe it was his own response. Laguna was right after all. Much as Squall dislikes to admit it, he usually was. He did have a responsibility to the Shumi...but Rinoa...  
  
"I'll--I have to think about it," he said.  
  
"Talk to your friends," Laguna told him. "That always helps me. Just remember it is important--both things are. But the Shumi might not accept help from SeeD if you're not there, and Rinoa would." He shook his head, his hair falling in his eyes. "Well, that's what I called for. Know you've got a lot to do. I wish I could really help." He sighed, pushing the distracting mane back. "Guess it's good-bye, then. Uh...Squall?"  
  
"...Yeah?"  
  
"When this is over, all of it, I mean--would you like to come to Esthar? Just for a little while. A vacation. You could bring Rinoa, or all your friends. I know Ellone really wants to see you. And I get discounts, free things--it's be fun. If you'd want to."  
  
"Maybe. After this is over," Squall said reluctantly. Wondering if he could possibly figure out vacations. The last time he hadn't had anything to do, no classes or work or practices at all, was when he was still in the orphanage. And he had come to Balamb Garden when he was five.  
  
But Rinoa would know what to do. And it would be good to see Ellone. He would like that.  
  
After everything was over. "Goodbye, Laguna." Squall disconnected, wondering if he had in fact promised anything at all. Everything was probably not going to be over for a very long time. And meanwhile he had a decision to make. In the end, that was what leadership was truly about. Deciding. Good, bad. Right, wrong. Left or right, black or white, yes or no.  
  
Sometimes he hated it. But if he didn't choose, who would?  
  
***  
  
"The SeeD have rejected our petition," Ferdid reported to the select council. Only half the official members were present for this meeting; with no audience, the great chamber was cavernously empty. Those familiar with the government might have identified the absent faces as the more experienced, the more noble, the more honest.  
  
With this council, the Lady Jezikan had a chair next to her husband, and Lord Dahl sat at the table further down. He never spoke, but the councilors didn't ask why he was present, and they tended to lose their place in their speeches if they noticed he was watching. Jezikan said little herself, but she often murmured in her husband's ear. The councilors didn't question this, either.  
  
"We weren't expecting SeeD to accept, were we?" remarked Kittering, the Minister of Foreign Affairs.  
  
"No," the President agreed. "But I'm concerned by more than the rejection. He informed me the Garden will be leaving by tonight. There was a definite possibility that the Shumi got out a distress call before we blocked their radio signal."  
  
"Even if they head right there," pointed out the assistant Minister of War, "it took them several days to come here. They shouldn't get there for nearly a week, at that rate."  
  
"Exactly," Deling nodded. "Which is why I'm ordering the troops out tomorrow, except for one ship. The others will proceed to the primary site--since the Shumi apparently did not have what we were seeking. Correct, Doctor?"  
  
The doctor was seated at the opposite end of the table from Dahl. He jerked up at the address. "Yes, my Lord President. I doubt even your foolish soldiers could misread my sensor. If the device detected nothing, than there was nothing to be found. We did not necessarily believe that the Shumi would possess any such thing. Therefore we must take it from the source, since I am having difficulties--" At Jezikan's glare he blinked, recalling that the council knew nothing of the girl held prisoner downstairs, and hastily changed it, "little luck with my other projects."  
  
The council members missed his verbal flinch in the face of other concerns. "Take it from the source?" the assistant war minister cried. "You suggest an attack on Esthar itself? Madness!"  
  
"Not Esthar," Ferdid corrected. "We'd be mad indeed to strike directly at the Country of the Shield. But they have a colony not nearly so protected, which should have the technology we require." Even if the SeeD stopped the Shumi raid, they would be too far away to prevent that strike. Peaceful and undefended, it would be easy to take from the colony what they needed. And once the doctor completed his work, no one, not even Esthar, would deny Galbadia anything she demanded. "Our second force is already deployed. In two days we attack Fisherman's Horizon."  
  
***  
  
In the end it wasn't that difficult a decision. Squall told his circle the problem, they agreed with Laguna's assessment, and all volunteered to go in his stead. Wary of Zell working with Seifer, he asked Quistis and Selphie to accompany Irvine. Selphie had experience in espionage; she had managed well enough at the Galbadian missile base last year. And Quistis of any of them had the best chance of getting something out of Seifer. Besides, if they had to fight the Galbadians personally at the Shumi village, he wanted Zell's skill. Squall was used to fighting alongside him. Zell's fists were a perfect counterpoint to his gunblade; though his friends were all excellent fighters, there were none before Zell he would choose to battle beside. Except Rinoa, and she wasn't available.  
  
They were ready within the hour. He met with the rescue party at one of the lower exits, where they could slip out and infiltrate the city unnoticed. "Good luck," he wished them, since that was proper to say at these times. He didn't ask if they were prepared; he knew they would be.  
  
"We won't let you down," Irvine assured him, saluting jauntily before pulling down his hat and sliding off the ledge to the ground below.  
  
Selphie touched his shoulder and shook him slightly. "Rinoa's gonna be fine," she said. "She's going to be worried about you, too, so don't get in trouble!" Giving him a bright smile, she hopped down.  
  
Quistis had tucked the Ragnarok's homing beacon safely away in her vest. She was holding her whip, the delicate chain threaded through her fingers. "Squall...you can trust us."  
  
"...I know." He didn't know how to express it, how it twisted him up inside, watching them go and he not with them. Why should he be so disturbed, when he did trust them? "Just...Quistis, be careful. Seifer..."  
  
"Seifer's what he always was. He's not any older than us, or any wiser. I can handle him. And we can take on the Galbadians, no problem." She met his eyes steadily. "We'll bring Rinoa back. And she's not going to care that it was us and not you. She'll understand. She loves you, Squall. Even if Seifer helps rescue her and you're not there, she still loves you."  
  
Of course he knew it was true; he had heard it enough times before. So why did it help for Quistis to say it again? "I know," Squall said. "Good luck," and he meant it earnestly this time.  
  
Quistis nodded, then stepped off the ledge and dropped to the earth alongside Irvine and Selphie. Together they moved off to a copse of trees planted outside the city walls. In a few minutes there was a deep rumble, as if the earth itself were groaning, then a higher shriek. Slowly the Garden's field-wheel began to spin. Wind whipped the leaves around them as deliberately, majestically, the giant craft rose into the sky.  
  
"Goodbye!" Selphie yelled over the deafening roar, waving. Irvine clutched his hat to his head. They all watched the Garden ponderously turn, then progress away from the city. It seemed to move at a snail's pace, but they watched until the tip of the spire disappeared over the mountains into the burning sunset. Then they settled under the trees and waited for full darkness to fall.  
  
to be continued  
  
------------------------------  
  
From: XmagicalX Subject: [FF8][FanFic] Promise of Nightmares, Ch 4 X-Moderation-Queue-Date: Mon, 07 Aug 2000 03:00:36 GMT  
  
The next chapter is here, love to know what you think!  
  
- XmagX  
  
Final Fantasy belongs to SquareSoft. Find previous chapters here: And away we go...  
  
***  
  
The Promise of Nightmares  
  
A Final Fantasy VIII story by XmagicalX  
  
Chapter IV: Tactics  
  
***  
  
A problem had materialized by the time Squall made it back to the bridge. Fujin and Raijin had decided to stay and help out however they could. Predictably, Zell was not grateful for the offer. "You'd be more help in Deling," he was trying to convince them when the commander returned.  
  
"No time," Squall said. "Nida, take off."  
  
"Yes, sir." The pilot pulled levers and flung back the rudder, guiding the Garden into the air with hardly a jerk.  
  
"Smooth," Raijin remarked, impressed. "Much better than last time, ya know?"  
  
"We've practiced," Squall said tersely. The last time Raijin and Fujin had been in the Garden was when they had figured out how to become airborne. The repairs at Fisherman's Horizon and experience had greatly improved their flying.  
  
He ordered medium speed while a pilot planted the Ragnarok in an available mountain crevice. As it was, the Garden couldn't hit full acceleration until they reached the ocean, not without doing considerable damage to the land below. Once over water they would really move.  
  
In the meantime he turned to Raijin and Fujin before Zell could start on them again. "Why'd you stay? We won't be going back to Deling City for a while--I don't know when we'll see Seifer again."  
  
"Oh, we will," Raijin said. "We always end up together, ya know. But we wanted to say here. To help out, and visit a bit." He looked around the office. "It's been a while, ya know? We were feeling...I dunno...like we wanted..."  
  
"HOME," Fujin pronounced quietly.  
  
Raijin bobbed his head in agreement. "There's no place else we're from, ya know? Except Seifer, and he's not a place. We got used to being here."  
  
"We didn't kick *you* out," Zell said awkwardly. "Just Seifer."  
  
"Yeah, but we go where he goes, ya--"  
  
"Yeah, I know, I *know*! You're his posse! Geeze." Zell threw up his arms. "I don't get why you like that guy so much. He's a self-centered, obnoxious jerk--"  
  
"SILENCE," Fujin commanded, anger flaring in her single eye.  
  
"Shouldn't talk about Seifer that way, ya know?" Raijin didn't sound as furious as Fujin, but then few could. "You don't know him--"  
  
"I've known him since we were this big, and he's always been a jerk! You want me to shut up? Try and make me! The training ground's right below--"  
  
"Zell."  
  
Squall uttering his name like that was the only definite way to shut Zell down. He lowered his fists and dropped his head. "Sorry."  
  
If the apology was directed at Raijin and Fujin, they didn't seem inclined to take it. But at the commander's gesture they let Squall and Zell walk past and exit without a word.  
  
Once in the lift, Squall folded his arms. He didn't have to wait long. "Why didn't they just stay with Seifer since they love him so much?" Zell burst out. "Why'd they come with us?"  
  
"I told them they could."  
  
Zell punched the lift's wall, pulling back at the last instant before denting it. He was learning. "You didn't have to. You could've just told them to go back to Seifer. Then they wouldn't be bugging us here--and they're probably up to something. Seifer wouldn't just send them for the hell of it. He's got something going. They were in the bar, too, when the fight broke out. They cause trouble--"  
  
So can you sometimes, Squall thought, but refrained from saying aloud. Instead he tried to conceive of how Rinoa would handle this. She was so much better at dealing with people. And dealing with friends--that was hardest. "...Is something wrong?"  
  
Zell wheeled around, then stopped in place, blinking, as if he didn't quite believe Squall had said that. He shook himself and replied, "Yeah, something's wrong, Raijin and Fujin are on our bridge..." Then he sighed, shoulders drooping. "And Irvine and Quistis and Selphie are in Deling City. Why couldn't I go, Squall? I could've handled Seifer, I would've for Rinoa's sake. I wouldn't let you guys down."  
  
"I didn't think you would," Squall said automatically, then acknowledged it was true. He knew he could count on Zell, as he could on all of them. It was dangerous to trust others that much; he never forgot how dangerous it was. And yet it was worth the risk. He was still learning that, how much it was worth. "I could've sent any of you, but I needed--I wanted at least one of you with me. In case we have trouble with the Galbadians."  
  
"It could've been Quistis," Zell said. "She knows more about running the Garden. Or Selphie--"  
  
"But..." He had made the decision. It was too late to change it, and he wouldn't even if he could. "I wanted you if we have to go hand to hand against the Galbadians. You've got the best style for stopping them without killing them--the Shumi won't want bloodshed. I don't either." He paused momentarily. "Besides, we fight well together."  
  
It was the right thing to say, as well as true. Zell didn't look convinced until Squall spoke the last; then his whole aspect brightened. "Really? You think so? I think we're a great team--man, you remember goin' against Ultimecia? Wha-bam! and she was *down*!" He flexed his fingers. "I hope those Galbadians jerks do give us trouble, I'm getting soft. And you've been too busy even to fight in the training hall--this'll be just like before. I can't wait!"  
  
"You'll have to," Squall said. "If you could wait without ticking off Raijin and Fujin, that'd be better."  
  
"Okay, okay. No sweat," Zell grinned. "But as soon as we get done with the Galbadians, I want to duel. I've got a couple moves now that could take Raijin!"  
  
And then Fujin would blow him into the ceiling with one casting of aero. But it could be an interesting fight, if refereed so no one was permanently maimed. Raijin and Fujin probably would be more than amenable to it. When there was time. "According to Nida, we'll reach the Shumi village early tomorrow afternoon. We should rest while we can."  
  
When Zell nodded, Squall pushed the button to return the lift to the office. "You think we'll hear from Quistis and everyone by tomorrow?" Zell asked as they entered the outside hall.  
  
"I hope," Squall said.  
  
He must have betrayed more in his reply than he thought, because Zell gave him an improbably shrewd look. "They're all gonna be fine. You don't need to worry. Especially about Rinoa. I mean, she knows how to take care of herself, but that's not what's getting to you, is it? I'm not Irvine, I don't know much about love, but I know Rinoa pretty well." This was starting to sound familiar... "Maybe she had a thing for Seifer, but that's over. And she only liked Seifer. She really loves you."  
  
Squall put his head in his hand. "I know. I know!"  
  
***  
  
Deling City nights were bright and loud. Quistis, Irvine, and Selphie stuck to the darker shadows but didn't avoid the noise. In an effort to be less conspicuous, they added to it. While Quistis guided them through the same roads she had followed Squall down that morning, Irvine, not skilled in the art of silence as it were, lead the conversation. "I've never actually spent a night in Deling," he admitted. "Some of my friends in Galbadia Garden were from the city, though; they told me enough to get by. Where to take girlfriends--and not to take them--"  
  
Selphie swatted him. "Don't even think about it."  
  
"I'll do my best. Some of the places around here, though--talk about inspiring the imagination!" Drawn moth-like to neon lights, he peeked down a glittering sidestreet. "Oh boy--"  
  
Selphie covered his eyes. Without slowing, Quistis shook her head and hissed, "We're not on vacation."  
  
Falling into step beside her, Irvine nodded with a gravity that proved his act was nothing more than that. "Just trying to keep things cool."  
  
"We're just teasing, Quisty," Selphie murmured next to him. "Irvine's not thinking about chasing girls with Rinoa in trouble."  
  
"Are you sure?"  
  
Selphie stopped dead in her tracks. Quistis halted with her, stiffening as if only just realizing what she had said, and grabbed the sharpshooter's arm. "I'm sorry, Irvine, I didn't mean it."  
  
"It's all right. Like, nothing I haven't heard before." He shrugged and continued forward, calling over his shoulder, "Come on--damsel in distress, remember?"  
  
With an uninterpretable glance at Quistis, Selphie jogged to catch up with Irvine's longer stride. She paced him, inquiring anxiously, "You're not upset, are you? She really didn't mean it, you know the way she gets when she's worried."  
  
"I'm not upset." He kept his eyes on the sidewalk ahead. "It's true--I know, I've gotten it before."  
  
"That doesn't mean it's true," Selphie said. "You're worried about Rinoa, too; you just show it differently than Quistis. Squall wouldn't have sent us to do this unless he believed in us--it's *Rinoa*. If he didn't think we were totally whole-hearted, he'd've come himself. He trusts you--so you should, too."  
  
Irvine paused to look down at her earnest face, then took her hands in his and squeezed them. "Thanks, Sephie. I don't know how I did it..."  
  
"Did what?"  
  
"Anything, after the orphanage and before we met again." He leaned forward and she raised herself on her toes, but before their lips met they both pulled away. Looking back, they saw Quistis waiting behind them, her arms crossed protectively over her chest and her gaze steady on the sidewalk.  
  
"We need to do something for her," Selphie whispered, breaking away from Irvine to hurry back to her friend. "Quistis, come on--Irvine's not mad at you."  
  
"I can't get angry with beautiful women," he affirmed, then put his arm over her shoulder and said, seriously, "And I don't stay mad at friends. We have a job to do, right, fearless leader? Or are we going to have to drag you there?"  
  
"Oh, stop it," Quistis sighed, making a half-hearted effort to slip free of his arm. "You'll make Selphie jealous."  
  
"Too late! By now she's gonna flirt with Seifer just to get on my nerves."  
  
"Well, Seifer's a jerk, but he *is* a really hot jerk," Selphie mused. "He and Squall fighting is sure something to see, right, Quistis?"  
  
Quistis had no comment, but she smiled a little, to Selphie's relief. Convincing Squall he had a sense of humor was difficult enough; for Quistis to lose hers would be a calamity. They continued on their way in a comfortable silence, walking just slow enough that they didn't seem to be hurrying but not stopping again until they reached the right street. A block away from the barracks they paused to assess the situation.  
  
"Two guards? Why would the officer's quarters need guards?" Irvine hissed.  
  
"Protection? Maybe they're really unpopular commanders," Selphie hazarded. "After all, Seifer is one..."  
  
"Or maybe the president wants to keep an eye on them," Quistis suggested, blue eyes narrowed in thought. They couldn't just walk up to the place and ask for Seifer. But without him, where could they go? Attacking the guards was out; the point was not to draw attention. But there was no easy way around them; the walls were tall and the windows surely locked. How to pass unnoticed--an invisibility spell would be ideal, but they knew none.  
  
She looked at Irvine, frowned slightly then said, "I have an idea. Stay here. If there seems to be trouble--do whatever you think is best. I'm going in."  
  
"What?" Selphie and Irvine both stared. "You can't just walk up and knock--"  
  
"If you're gonna fight I can shoot from here--"  
  
Quistis ignored them. Pulling the pins out of her bun, she shook down her long golden hair and tossed it over her shoulder, then handed her whip to Selphie. Before they realized she had left herself unarmed, she was heading toward the barracks entrance. Too late to stop her without blowing whatever plan she had invented, Selphie and Irvine watched nervously from the shadow of a bar's canopy.  
  
She made no attempt to hide herself from the guards. On the contrary, she walked right up to them--or perhaps sauntered better described her easy stride. Out of pure concern for his teammate, Irvine focused on her rolling hips, closely enough that Selphie had to resort to more than words get his attention. Where she squeezed attained it instantly and undivided. "She hasn't lost her mind, has she?" the small SeeD asked worriedly.  
  
Irvine rubbed his pinched flesh, wondering if there would be a mark even through his jeans. "I don't think so."  
  
Quistis reached the barracks. She was most definitely visible, though in all likelihood Irvine and Selphie wouldn't have been to the guards had they followed her. She leaned forward, and the soldiers mirrored the motion, bending close to allow her to whisper in their ears. Both straightened when she was done, and one immediately turned on his heel and marched into the building. Quistis crossed her arms and tilted her head, waiting.  
  
In a minute the guard returned with Seifer, his long coat bright in the streetlamp's glow. They were regrettably too far away to see his face, but listening closely they made out his voice. "Why are you here?"  
  
Her reply was too low to hear, but they saw her step forward, and then Irvine and Selphie both choked as Quistis reached up to entwine her arms around Seifer's neck.  
  
No need for an invisibility spell after all. Both of the guards were determinedly not seeing Quistis, as Seifer put an arm around her waist and brought her inside.  
  
"That's brilliant!" Selphie crowed. "Way to go, Quisty!"  
  
"Are you sure it's not more than a plan?" Irvine whispered, blinking as if to make sure his eyes were working right. "I mean--"  
  
"No, Irvine." Quistis had never liked Seifer, a feeling decidedly mutual. Irvine knew that as well as Selphie did; they had grown up together, after all.  
  
"But that was an awfully good acting job, you don't think--"  
  
"No, Irvine."  
  
"They're both instructors now. And he is good looking, you said so, and Quistis, well--"  
  
"*No*, Irvine."  
  
There was a long silence while they waited, watching the guards and listening for any alarm to be sounded.  
  
"Hey, Sephie, remember what we were saying before this whole mess, about how Quistis has been lonely? You think there's any chance she and--"  
  
"NO, Irvine!"  
  
"Do I want to know?" Quistis dropped down from the ledge above. Her hair was already back in its bun, and Selphie returned her whip without a word. Irvine subjected her to intense observation for two seconds, then settled back to listen without comment. "Seifer thinks there's a good chance Rinoa's being held in the council hall itself--it's got a deep basement, shielded against magic as well as missile attacks, from the last Sorceress war. He told me where to go--he said he'd come himself, but if there's soldiers they'll be loyal only to the President--or Lady Jezikan. I think he's just afraid of being caught...anyway. It's late enough there shouldn't be that many people to see us; we better get going, and see if anything Seifer said was true."  
  
"Hey, Quisty," Irvine asked as they walked, "Seifer didn't say anything else, did he--"  
  
Selphie elbowed him. Quistis frowned. "What? Not really--he was irritated that it was me and not Squall, but I told him what came up. I also told him Fujin and Raijin left with the Garden, but he wasn't too surprised. Actually, what surprised me was that he didn't seem to know about the Shumi village raid--maybe he is only a teacher, not a commander." Considering his former ambitions, and the way he had always scorned Quistis for being only an instructor, this struck her as odd--not that she didn't believe it was true, but because she thought it was. He had changed.  
  
She hoped he had changed enough, for Rinoa's sake.  
  
The shed was right where it should be, set against the near wall of the square opposite the council hall. Once the patrolling officer passed, Irvine picked the lock and they crowded inside the dilapidated structure. Amidst dusty gardening tools, Quistis located the lever, just as Seifer had described. Pulling it opened the hidden trapdoor set in the floor. They lowered Selphie down first; she cast a simple fire spell for light as Quistis and then Irvine squeezed through and shut it behind them.  
  
The stone-walled tunnel was narrow, and low enough that Irvine had to hunch over. Selphie had room enough to skip a bit as she lead the way down. It took one sharp turn, and after edging through a narrow section, they ended up by a blank wall. Following Seifer's instructions, Quistis found the outline of another trapdoor, which when pried swung up to reveal a ladder leading down into darkness.  
  
"Down and down we go...We gonna end up in the sewers or the Underworld?" Irvine muttered.  
  
"These kind of look like the sewer tunnels, actually, only smaller," Selphie remarked.  
  
Irvine eyed her. "How do you know--"  
  
"Let's get moving," Quistis said hastily, and they descended into the pit.  
  
It didn't turn out to be as dire as Irvine's predictions; eight feet down they hit the floor. Selphie's magic flame illuminated a plain wooden door; when Quistis twisted the knob, it opened into a closet full of mops and brooms. "What is this, the janitor's escape hatch?" Selphie whispered.  
  
"More like the council's," Irvine whispered back. "Revolutionaries aren't exactly new to Galbadia; people have opposed the government as far back as I can remember history class."  
  
Quistis pressed her ear to the metal door. "It doesn't sound like anyone is out there," she murmured, "but be ready for anything." She counted to three and opened the door.  
  
The corridor was empty up and down its dimly lit length. The ceiling lamps flickered wearily as they emerged from the closet and took their bearings. "Seifer couldn't tell me where to go," Quistis said. "He's never been here."  
  
"How'd he even know about the tunnel?" Selphie asked.  
  
Quistis shrugged. "I didn't ask. But it sounded like this whole basement isn't much in use. Where there are people, there's probably Rinoa. Which way should we try first?"  
  
Selphie pointed left. Irvine pointed right.  
  
Quistis sighed and started left. The other two fell in behind her. Their footsteps sounded dully on the thin, murky carpet. It was clean, and the gray walls polished, but there was an air of desertion about the silent hallway, as if every step stirred up invisible dust. Irvine almost sneezed, but caught his imagination in time.  
  
They turned, and turned again, winding their way through the blank passages. Unguarded doors probably weren't important. Guarded doors might have been, but there were no guards, nor any people for what felt like hours. Quistis was about to suggest they turn back when they rounded a corner and heard distinct voices at the other end of the hall.  
  
"It's dangerous to keep her," a bass intoned.  
  
"//President Deling//," Quistis mouthed to the others.  
  
A heavily accented baritone answered in nearly a whine, "Dangerous, but in the interests of science, she is worth it! So much I could learn, even if it doesn't help you, there still is great knowledge to gather--"  
  
The SeeD frowned at one another. That voice was familiar, but none of them could place it.  
  
Before they had another chance, a third man spoke in an oily tenor. "Sirs, my wards are broken--someone comes, uninvited."  
  
"Guards!" Ferdid's sharp order sounded alarmed.  
  
"Wait, Lord President," the tenor said. "It will be taken care of."  
  
"I say we charge 'em now," Irvine muttered, "before--"  
  
He was interrupted by a low growl behind them. As one the SeeDs turned, grabbing for their weapons. Then they saw the enemy. "Dammit," Quistis hissed.  
  
One of the beasts hissed back, scraping its claws against the floor. The other growled again, deeper, and more threatening when one could see its bared fangs. Like monstrous leopards they were, tentacles writhing where whiskers should spread, spotted pelts gleaming a sleek, poisonous orange. Their muscles rippled as they crouched to cast their magic.  
  
"Ah, man," sighed Irvine. "I saw enough of these at Ultimecia's castle!"  
  
"How'd they get toramas down here?" Selphie asked rhetorically, gripping her nunchakus.  
  
"I dunno, but they're doing a number on the carpet." Irvine raised his rifle and sighted along the barrel.  
  
Quistis flung out her whip as one torama completed its thundaga spell. The chain struck a sensitive tendril and wrapped around its legs; she pulled it taut as lightning crackled over her, gritting her teeth against the energy's fierce burn. The torama yowled as its paws were yanked out from under it.  
  
Its mate answered with another spell. Quistis felt a brush of cold, freezing like Death itself. Then she heard the thunder of Irvine's shot, and the icy touch vanished as a blossom of scarlet appeared between the beast's eyes. It dropped, lifeless, to the floor.  
  
Selphie lifted her nunchakus, and then her aspect seemed to fade, as if she were too dim to shine through the brightening world. Flames erupted where she had stood, and from the pyre roared a horned beast more monstrous than the toramas, wilder than a volcano. Too large to fit in the corridor, it burst through the walls--  
  
Quistis shook her head, forcing herself to see past the other-state to the reality remaining behind the guardian force's power. Ifrit bellowed as he flung his fire, burning through the torama but leaving the walls untouched. The phantom flame died quickly as Ifrit returned to his rest, pulling the trappings of the other-state away with him and leaving only the true world, with Selphie standing ready in the hole of his absence.  
  
The torama feebly waved its scorched tentacles, and the small SeeD collapsed as its spell struck. With a cry, Irvine lunged for her, while Quistis snapped her whip around the beast's neck and wrenched back. Its snarl faltered to a gargled cough as the chain crushed its windpipe, and then it fell.  
  
She looked to Irvine, only to see him slump over, Selphie crumpled beside him.  
  
"Irvine!"  
  
Quistis dodged for him, then heard an unfamiliar voice behind her. "Thanks, Magus, that made it a lot easier."  
  
She twisted around, but not in time to avoid the soldier's sword hilt slamming down. It cracked against her temple with a burst of color, a burst of pain, and then nothing at all.  
  
***  
  
In his dream he was swimming, but the current was stronger than his strokes. The river whipped him along, so that he had to struggle to keep his head above water.  
  
Rinoa was watching. She reached out her hand as he was swept past, but though their fingers brushed there was no time for them to clasp before he was torn away. The waters grew choppier, white surge splashing in his face. It was warmer than he thought it would be, and he had no trouble breathing. Petals caught in the wind twirled by, pale, like the flowers in the field where he had told her he would wait for her. But the river flowed away from the field. He couldn't fight against it, though he tried.  
  
In his dream he saw Balamb Garden, its reflection shimmering on the flowing water, moving with it, as if it too were caught in the current. Cid was in the Garden. He shouted to the headmaster that there was a waterfall ahead, that the Garden would fall with the water and be dashed on the rocks.  
  
Cid did nothing. Maybe he couldn't hear. Squall tried to swim to the Garden, but it was too high, the river too fast. Then the water foamed as it arced over the falls, an ever-shifting, translucent curtain drawn over the silvery rocks and pulled into the gathering sea below. He was carried with the water, plunging down and down and down...  
  
Squall did not awake relaxed. By the time the Garden was in radar range of Shumi Village, he had paced his office, gone up to the bridge, and come down again half a dozen times. Even Raijin and Fujin were silent as they stood by, waiting for orders, or conversation, or something else Squall didn't know how to give. The SeeD present watched mutely, offering little except reports on their progress.  
  
"We're not detecting anything at the village yet," Xu said as they approached. "But there's a nearby storm that might be interfering. We'll be in visual contact shortly, and we'll know better then."  
  
"Fine," Squall said, and rode down to the office.  
  
Zell followed him down once the lift returned to the bridge. "Hey, what gives? The Galbadians aren't gonna be any trouble. What are you worried about? What's the matter?"  
  
The Garden is about to go off the waterfall and I can't do anything about it. Cid can't do anything. No one can, because that's the way the river's running and you can't stop the river. You can't do anything but flow along with it, go with the times, because they're going with you. Leadership is all about making decisions, but there aren't any choices, really; they're all made, they're already made. The past can't be changed, and neither can the future.  
  
And Rinoa still was gone. "...Nothing."  
  
"Oh, yeah, right, nothing." Zell came close to glaring at him. "Quistis and Rinoa and all are gonna call in later, you know. They're probably hiding out in the city until tonight."  
  
"It's only dawn there," Squall said.  
  
"See? They're holed up at Lank's or something. And it'll be a long hike to the Ragnarok, unless they hotwire a car--Rinoa knows how, I showed her."  
  
Squall raised an eyebrow at that. Zell grinned, pleased to get a rare reaction out of him. "She asked me to. C'mon, we better get up to the bridge, see what those Galbadian jerks are really doing."  
  
On the bridge's vantage point, so high above the ocean, it was nearly impossible to tell they were moving at all. But the gray-green shore was fast approaching, and then they were upon it, rushing high over bramble and dirt paths. The domes of the Shumi village soon were visible in the distance.  
  
The expected Galbadian vessels were not. "I don't get it," Nida said, handing Squall the binoculars. "I only see one ship. That shouldn't be enough to get through the Shumi's defenses." The Shumi had only one major defense, but it was a solid one: the three hundred meters of earth their village was buried beneath. The main entrance was small enough that only a few guards were needed to protect it against most attackers.  
  
But when Squall looked, he only counted the one Galbadian ship, a standard assault vehicle. Large enough to carry a couple platoons and maybe a few missiles or war machines, but not a major threat.  
  
"We can handle that easy," Zell remarked, but without the expected confidence. That the threat looked so minor only meant one thing--it wasn't as simple as it seemed. It couldn't be. They would just be able to sweep down and take the vessel, save the Shumi without risking a single SeeD.  
  
From this distance Squall couldn't see any obvious problem. But he could hear the waterfall, pounding in his ears as the river flowed relentlessly toward it.  
  
***  
  
The atmosphere of prison was not conducive to headaches. Quistis awoke grouchy, and the stabbing pain which struck through her temples as she sat up made it worse. The rock-hard pallet where a bed, or at least a cot, should be, and the sorry excuse for bread they offered as breakfast didn't help. Irvine and Selphie stayed as far from her as the small cell would allow.  
  
There were no guards present, but with the thick iron bars and thicker stone walls, they would have been redundant. The anti-magic field prevented them from even casting a cure to relieve Quistis of the lingering effects of concussion. Selphie halfway wished she herself had been left unconscious from the torama's magic attack, but they had revived her before jailing them. Fortunately, at that; the torama's spell often had an unpleasant habit of stopping breathing along with everything else. Apparently they were wanted alive. Dead probably would have raised too many questions.  
  
They weren't the only ones jailed. The cell visible across the corridor was occupied, but the man inside was sound asleep. Maybe drunk. While Irvine caught up on his rest and Quistis glared at the walls, Selphie tried calling to him, to no response.  
  
She had more luck when she approached a wall to closer examine the graffiti and seek any weak spots. "Hey, you, girl."  
  
Hearing the whisper, Selphie searched until she found a small hole in the wall. A firecracker inserted in it might bring down the wall...if she had a firecracker. "Yes?" she whispered through the gap.  
  
"Heard you shouting before--it's no good. They got a spell in the walls muting the cells. Lucky we carved this chink."  
  
"'We'?" Selphie asked.  
  
"The rebels," the voice said. "That's why you be here, right?"  
  
"Uh...in a way, I guess."  
  
The speaker chuckled hoarsely. "Ain't no crime but the big one in Galbadia anymore. Treason's the leading cause of death, these days."  
  
"Death?" She wasn't that frightened; she had risked her life before. But an executioner's axe or noose was so final...  
  
"Don't worry, girl, they don't kill the small fry. Only a couple leaders a year, truly, just for show. If they caught the ones behind the circles now...they'd do worse than kill them."  
  
"Who is behind the circles?"  
  
Another dry laugh. "If I knew that, I wouldn't be here!"  
  
"How long have you--"  
  
"Me, few months now. Too old to bother shipping me. You they'll likely send with the rest, out to the Desert Prison."  
  
"Oh, there." It was for political prisoners, she recalled. "We got out of there easy, last time."  
  
"Last time?"  
  
"When will they transfer us?" Selphie asked. They didn't have time for this. Rinoa was still captured, and Squall wouldn't be very happy with them getting caught like this. "Will there be a trial soon?"  
  
"A trial?" The crackling chuckle gave way to a full-bodied guffaw. "You ain't from here, are you, girl? A trial for treason? In *Galbadia*?" He was chortling too hard to speak. Selphie hoped his aged heart wouldn't give out in his mirth.  
  
Quistis scowled at the audible laughter. "At least *somebody's* having a good time."  
  
***  
  
In another part of the city, Quistis might have been cheered to find someone in a worse mood than she. For all her own tempers, Jezikan rarely saw her husband in such a rage. It was all the more disturbing because it was so cold. The set of his heavy brow and his balled fists were the only outward signs of his anger.  
  
"The report is no hoax," he growled. "The Garden's already at the Shumi village. It appears we've seriously underestimated their speed, wife."  
  
She understood the implications. There was now no certainty that they wouldn't be able to prevent the planned attack on Fisherman's Horizon. Moreover, what else might they not know, if they were so wrong about even that? What defenses and assaults might the Garden be capable of? Great Shiva, its size alone awed people; what damage could such a massive structure wreak? And that wasn't considering the SeeD it carried, the most elite soldiers in the world, with their boy commander. They could not afford to underestimate the SeeD. But they had.  
  
"I've ordered the ship there to pull out and return to the city. I'm leaving immediately," Ferdid cut through her thoughts.  
  
"Leaving? For where?"  
  
"Fisherman's Horizon, with the doctor. We will get what we need, whether the SeeD in their Garden approve. My leadership may be necessary to win this fight."  
  
She nodded. He was a good general; the soldiers would do better for his strategy. Whether he and his forces could prevail against they who had defeated the Sorceress was another matter altogether, but there would be no convincing him of those odds. Instead she wished him luck, and saw him to his ship as a dutiful wife should.  
  
As soon as the vessel had left the dock, she hurried back to her chambers. Dahl was waiting. She wasted no time explaining to him this newest, unfortunate development.  
  
"And still, brave Ferdid sallies forth against the dragon," he remarked sardonically.  
  
"'Brave Ferdid' has to defeat them," Jezikan said. "We must take Fisherman's Horizon, Dahl. We must be assured of that."  
  
He knew, yet still he asked. "How?" he murmured, so low it thrummed through her like the beat of a bass drum.  
  
She locked the door and shuttered the window before she faced him, stared directly into the unreachable blackness of his eyes. "You will stop the SeeD commander. Now, this moment. And we shall see how the dragon fares after we've severed its head."  
  
***  
  
By the time Balamb Garden was in striking range, the Galbadian vessel had risen to flee. Refusing radio contact, the single ship soared past them, flying toward the sea. Squall decided it wasn't worth the effort to chase them, and ordered Xu to raise the Shumi.  
  
After a minute he was in conversation with the village elder, a tall, sad-eyed being, strangely graceful despite its inhuman proportions and vaguely frog-like aspect. "Rushushu," it burbled. "We thank you for coming to our aid, even if it did prove unnecessary--they must have realized we were less helpless than we seemed."  
  
"It wasn't only the one ship, was it?" Squall asked.  
  
The Shumi gave a bubbling laugh. "Woe on them if it had been! The disrespect they show the moomba earns our anger. No, the assault was many--more than we've ever fought before. They stole several moomba before we could prevent it, though we saved most."  
  
"Good. Did they do much damage?"  
  
The elder fluttered its long fingers, the Shumi equivalent of shaking one's head. "No, and we have already begun repairs. Their object was not to destroy--though they sought more than the moomba. Several of us witnessed them using various devices, scanners of some kind. From that and their questions, we believe they were searching--for what we do not know. A technology, or perhaps a magic. I do not think they found it here, however."  
  
Squall thanked the elder, and accepted its gratitude on behalf of SeeD. Upon ending the communication, he turned to Fujin and Raijin. "Do you know what the Galbadians were looking for?"  
  
Raijin shook his head. Fujin offered nothing.  
  
"Last time Galbadia invaded everywhere, they wanted Ellone," Zell remarked.  
  
"That was Ultimecia's order," Squall said. "And they're searching for some thing now, not a person." This was important, he sensed. An object--magic or technology, the Shumi had said. Perhaps a weapon, or something worse. Something that might be dangerous in the hands of those ruling Galbadia, Ferdid and Jezikan and the lord with the disturbing opaque eyes. If they hadn't found it at the Shumi village, they would keep looking..."Xu, can we still track the Galbadian ship?"  
  
"The one that ran? I think so, yes."  
  
"Find where it's going--Nida, set a course after them. To follow, not to catch up"  
  
"Aye aye, sir."  
  
"You sure you don't know what they're doing?" Zell was regarding Raijin and Fujin with some suspicion.  
  
"We're not the President's buds, ya know?" Raijin protested. "They don't give us the time of day there."  
  
"Then why stay in Galbadia?" demanded Zell.  
  
"LOYALTY."  
  
"'Cause Seifer's there." Raijin shrugged his broad shoulders. "That's why we're anywhere, ya know? Like that bar."  
  
Lank's tavern? Squall looked over. "Seifer told you to go there?"  
  
Raijin grinned. "Love a good brawl, ya know! Yeah, he wanted us to make a distraction. 'Cause he'd heard about the arrest, ya know. We've done that before. Just trip the soldiers up, so the guys can get away."  
  
"You stop arrests?" Zell seemed to have trouble swallowing that one.  
  
Raijin's grin broadened, at least until he noticed Fujin's one eye looking daggers at him. He swallowed. "Uh, yeah, we've stopped them a couple times," he mumbled. "When it's not too suspicious, ya know."  
  
Squall considered this, surprised himself even if his mouth wasn't gaping like Zell's. Seifer was helping the revolutionaries? Small wonder he wasn't popular with the President. Did the council know? They couldn't, or they wouldn't have hired him. But maybe they suspected, or maybe Seifer feared they would discover his secret.  
  
Why, though? Why would he risk it at all for those rebels? He had no stake in Galbadia. If it were any of his friends, Squall would have no trouble understanding. Rinoa was a revolutionary already and Galbadian by birth, as was Irvine. Selphie and Zell both liked a good fight, and helping people. Quistis did what she thought was right. But Seifer--he didn't care, not about anyone except himself. How was this helping him?  
  
Maybe it wasn't what it seemed at all. Maybe even Raijin and Fujin didn't know what he was doing; Seifer could be playing them along with everyone else. Even President Deling and his wife, perhaps. Maybe he knew where Rinoa was--maybe he had taken her.  
  
Something inside Squall went very cold. Quistis, Irvine, Selphie--they didn't know that possibility. Out of contact, no way to warn them...  
  
It might all be paranoia. Rinoa always told him he thought about things too much. But Zell advised him to trust his gut, and right now every instinct he had shouted there was more here than the obvious. A threat unnoticed. The waterfall on the horizon.  
  
"Squall? Hey, you there?" Zell, slightly worried.  
  
Squall realized he'd been quiet for too long, shook himself out of his reflections. They had been talking without him, Zell pressing Raijin about their unorthodox missions and Raijin trying not to let too many details slip under Fujin's watchful eye. He had avoided getting kicked thus far. "Yeah," Squall said. "I'm listening. Raijin. Would Seifer--"  
  
//Squall?//  
  
He faltered, caught himself and continued. "--Would Seifer know more about this raid?"  
  
"Probably not. Not if it's a secret, ya know?"  
  
"But if he--"  
  
//Can you hear me?//  
  
It was so far away he nearly didn't. Like a shout from deep underground, echoing through countless caverns until the last reverberation reached him. //Rinoa?//  
  
Raijin was looking at him oddly. Squall attempted to retrieve his lost line of thought. "Seifer has contact with Galbadian soldiers, since he's training them, right? Maybe they talk."  
  
"Yeah, they do," Raijin agreed readily. "It's how he knows about the arrests, ya know? But he doesn't train all of them, and lately there's been a lot gone anyway."  
  
//Squall, it's me.//  
  
"A--a lot gone?" He couldn't pay attention to Raijin, not with Rinoa's voice whispering on the edge of his consciousness, like a dream or a ghost. His imagination? He couldn't be hallucinating, wouldn't he know it if he were, couldn't he tell what was real and what wasn't? And still she spoke. //I need to know--//  
  
Raijin was answering. He tried to listen. "--gathering somewhere, ya know? No one says anything--"  
  
And then it was no dream, and no whisper. A howl filled his mind, drowning out voices and visions alike. He clutched his head, but the cry came from beyond his ears, penetrating every layer of thought and memory, shredding them like paper against a torrent.  
  
//Squall?// He barely heard her voice, only the piercing worry.  
  
From outside as well as in. "Sir?" "Commander? "--look so good, ya know?" All overlapping, adding to the chaos, and still the howl shrieked, louder and louder, a rising hurricane wind.  
  
Distantly he felt himself fall to his knees. Couldn't feel the floor to stand upon it. Lionheart was useless in its sheath at his side; no weapon could battle a tempest.  
  
Hands, grabbing his shoulders. "Squall?" Zell's voice, sharpened by fear, cut through the maelstrom.  
  
He didn't have the breath to reply. Desperately he tried to look to his friend, but he couldn't see past the storm. A blizzard of black snow blotted out everything, suffocating him as the wind deafened his ears and forced his eyes closed.  
  
//Squall!//  
  
He couldn't tell whose voice it was, out loud or in his mind, real or imagination, and he couldn't answer. But at least he wasn't alone. The snow piled deeper, crystallized water flowing higher. He was almost buried. Almost drowned.  
  
//Squall!!!//  
  
Gone. 


End file.
